Silent Tears
by Jessica C Potter
Summary: [COMPLETE]Harry dreams. His scar pains worsen. He sees what he can't understand. Evil reigns. So what do you get when you mix pain, suspicion, a secret friendship, and a dash of romance? Silent tears.
1. The Dream

**Author's Note:  Just to let you know, I do _not_ live in Britain, even though I used British punctuations and spellings because I feel that they make it seem more realistic to the storyline. (Which is why you ppl might find a few mistakes here and there…)**

**Silent Tears**

Part I:

The Dream 

'Now my—ah—_faithful_ Death Eaters,' sneered a high, cold voice…the voice of Lord Voldemort.  The picture of the dim room of the Riddle House was coming into sharper view.  Voldemort was pacing, addressing his companions.

'We must continue with arranging our plan.  Unfortunately, my _most_ faithful Death Eater has received the Dementor's Kiss—destroyed by our own ally.  We did not even manage to kill Harry Potter…and I confess myself disappointed once again.  But no matter.  We will soon have our revenge.  And after we have that fool Albus Dumbledore out of our way, we may prepare for world domination.'

Voldemort glared menacingly around the room, as though daring anyone to speak, but everyone merely sat in silence around the fire.  Wormtail twitched nervously, his powerful artificial arm glistening by the light of the flickering flames.  Nagini, the ten-foot-long snake, slithered past the Dark Lord.

'First,' he continued, ' we will need to position another Death Eater at Hogwarts.  That Death Eater will be you, Wormtail.'  

From what Harry could see, Wormtail's face had suddenly drained of colour.  He sputtered incoherently.

'M-m-me, My Lord?' he managed to ask fearfully.

'Why, certainly, Wormtail,' Voldemort replied coldly.  'You are an Animagus.  You alone can slip into the castle unnoticed, disregarded as simply a filthy, common rat.'

Wormtail shuddered convulsively.  Harry continued to listen with bated breath.

'Then,' he went on, 'I want you to brew the Potion and—'   

'My Lord!' gasped Wormtail.  'How can we possibly kill Harry Potter?'

Voldemort's pitiless red eyes narrowed as Wormtail shrank back in his armchair.  Voldemort drew out his wand.

'Meaning…?' he hissed evilly.

Wormtail flinched, his eyes fixed upon Voldemort's wand.  He gulped.

'W-w-well…' he stuttered.  'I merely thought that we could first—um…uh…' he trailed off, afraid to continue.  Harry stood in the shadows and watched in silence.

'Wormtail…' Voldemort began.  'You remember that new and wonderful hand I made for you?'

Wormtail nodded timidly.

'Don't forget that I can take it away just as easily….' He waved his wand threateningly.

'Y-y-yes, My Lord…My apologies… It will never happen again—'

'That will do,' said Voldemort, and Wormtail lapsed into silence.

'Now, where were we?' No one moved or said a word.  'You, Wormtail, poor wizard though you are, you will have your uses.  Make the Polyjuice Potion, turn into the girl's closest friend, and—'

'Oh, but My Lord—!' Wormtail burst out again.   

Instantly, everyone knew he had gone too far.  They drew a collective breath as Voldemort advanced towards Wormtail, his wand held forward.

'What is it this time?' Voldemort spat.

When Wormtail said nothing, he raised his wand.

'My Lord…no…I beg you…'

Voldemort gazed down at him, a look of cruel amusement on his face.

'_Crucio!'_

Wormtail shrieked and flailed on the floor; all the Death Eaters stood up and got out of the way.  Harry's scar seared with a sharp pain as he began yelling too…Voldemort would know he was there, listening to his every word—

Harry woke with a start.  He was drenched in cold sweat and shaking with fear.  His scar was burning on his forehead.  He sat up and looked around.

Sure enough, he was safe in his four-poster bed at Hogwarts in the fifth year boys' dormitory.  He was still breathing hard and fast as he snatched up his glasses, ink, parchment, and quill.  Dumbledore had told him to write down every dream he had about Voldemort, as they were extremely valuable clues as to how Voldemort was going to attack.  

As for Harry's frequent scar pains, both associated with the nightmares and during the day, Dumbledore had told him that these were to be thought of as good signs—at least, they would be able to know when to be on their guard.  

Harry had met with the Headmaster at the beginning of the year.  He had asked Harry to remain calm.  He was to keep his head down and concentrate on his studies.  After what happened last year—what with that Crouch/Moody guy wandering around—he was especially apprehensive as to what Voldemort had in store for him this time.  So all he could do was wait in worry.

Harry was still writing feverishly fast, determined not to forget anything, rubbing his forehead.  He though as he wrote, trying to get down all he knew before he forgot, _they're in the house again…and this time all the Death Eaters are with him…Wormtail is going to come back as a rat and turn into a girl's best friend, and with a potion…damn, this doesn't look good…_

All at once, the memory faded.  He sighed and glanced at his alarm clock.  It was only three in the morning.  Neville was snoring, and Ron, Dean, and Seamus were all sleeping peacefully as well.  He couldn't go to Dumbledore now; it was much too early.  And what was the point in waking Ron?  He would just panic.  He would have to give it till morning…. it was just lucky that it was Saturday….

Harry sighed again and fell back against his pillows, still running his fingers over his scar.  The pain was so terrible that he couldn't fall back to sleep.  He shifted restlessly, still thinking about the dream.  Who was the girl?  Hermione, Parvati, possibly Lavender?  Or maybe even someone he didn't know—but how would that ensure his death?  Well, he couldn't think of many other girls at the moment, and he normally avoided thinking about them for that matter. 

No, the thing that was bothering him most was how successful Voldemort was going to be this time.  Thinking back to the dream, Harry realised that Voldemort was probably going to try and get rid of Dumbledore first.  It would be terrible if Dumbledore were suddenly wiped off the face of the earth.  They wouldn't stand a chance.  Even with Harry's surviving, and the fact that he was probably just as powerful as Voldemort, if not more, just wasn't as reassuring as if there was that wise, guiding hand of Albus Dumbledore helping him through these dark and dangerous times.  Survival would be the most difficult thing of all, during the continued rise of the Dark Order….

But there was no time to brood on this, as sleep was finally over-powering him, and all his pain and exhaustion carried him off.

*********

'Harry!  Hey, Harry!  Come on, get up!' Ron called.

Harry sat up drowsily.  There was the sound of crinkling parchment while he tried to find the divide of the hangings in the semi-darkness.

''Smatter?' he asked sleepily.

Ron didn't answer.

'Ron?'  Finally finding the part, Harry ripped back his curtains to find his best friend reading about his dream.  Ron's jaw dropped as he read.

'Oh, no,' he muttered.  'Harry, what's this?' he asked, not looking up from the parchment.

Harry didn't know what to say.  Ron looked up at him nervously, waiting for him to explain.  

'Oh, that's…um…err…' He couldn't find any way out of this one.

'Okay, if you really want to know…' Harry began, 'I had another dream last night, and Dumbledore thinks that they could've really happened, so I'm going to send Hedwig to him,' he said in a rush.  He sucked in his breath as Ron looked at him with worried eyes.

'Oh, no…there's no way _you_ could see the future…I mean, come on…you would've seen more stuff in Divination if you really are a Seer…you've got to be joking….'

Harry remained silent.  He had been afraid this would happen.

'Well, come up to the Owlery with me so I can find Hedwig,' he said finally.

'Yeah, okay,' Ron answered, a look of utter disbelief still on his face.

Harry picked up his glasses, pulled on his robes, stuffed the parchment into his pocket, and walked out of the dorm, Ron behind him.

Up in the Owlery, Harry sat down against the stone wall to write the letter while Ron convinced Hedwig to flutter down on his arm.

_Dear Professor Dumbledore, _he wrote,

_It's happened again.  I woke up at three in the morning from another dream, and my scar hurt, too.  After the dream, I wrote down what I saw._

He wanted to say something about his worries for his friends, but didn't know how to explain this, so he simply signed his name.

'Finished,' he announced, rising to his feet.  Ron strode across the room, the snowy white owl still perched peacefully on his shoulder.  Harry tied the letter to her leg, and she soared through the open window and out of sight.  Ron and Harry left the room.  Harry kept looking sideways at Ron, who looked nothing short of petrified.

'Are you okay?' he asked, raising an eyebrow.

'Yeah,' Ron replied, but there was still a look of shock on his face.

Down the stone steps, they passed the Great Hall, neither of them feeling much like eating, and headed for Gryffindor Tower.

'Harry,' Ron said abruptly, ' who do you reckon the girl is?'

'I dunno,' said Harry uneasily.

They walked in silence until they reached the Fat Lady.

'Password?' she asked.

'Turnabulbs,' they said dully.

She swung forward, and they climbed through the portrait hole and into the common room.

It wasn't very crowded, mainly because most people were either still asleep or eating breakfast.  Those who were in there bade them good-morning as they walked across the large room to a corner table.

Ron seemed to recover as they played chess.

'Check!' he said triumphantly, placing his knight in front of Harry's queen.

Harry didn't say anything.  He had played in silence for most of the game.

'You feeling alright?' asked Ron, looking concerned.

'Mhmm,' Harry answered vaguely.  He moved his queen and took Ron's knight.

'Checkmate,' Ron said, and his bishop moved in front of the king.

Harry gazed absently out the window as Ron put the game away.

'Harry, are you _sure_ you're feeling okay?' Ron asked, looking down at him.

'Yeah, I'm just fine…' he trailed off.  But he wasn't fine.  He couldn't get his mind off the dream.  It had been haunting him ever since he had woken up at three a.m.  He was surprised that he didn't have a 'normal' nightmare about Voldemort after he got back to sleep.  It wasn't easy to forget is livid face and wide, mad eyes—

'Why weren't you two at breakfast?' asked Hermione's voice, bursting in on his thoughts.

Harry sat up quickly and looked uneasily at Ron, who looked stonily back.

'What?' she asked quizzically.  Hermione looked curiously from one to another as they wondered how best to explain their problem.  Finally, Harry decided to tell her about the dream, and his worries of Voldemort.  By the time he had finished, she had her hands over her mouth.

'Oh, Harry,' she whispered.  'You're going to have to be really, really careful.  We all are.'  She paused, then, as though struck by a sudden thought, she asked timidly, 'You—you did say that Wormtail got a new hand, didn't you?'

'Yeah,' he said uncomfortably.  The memories of that night were still painful.

Hermione looked at him sympathetically before continuing.

'Well…I just thought—maybe, when he's turned into a rat, his hand'll show up.  Then we'll know if it's him.'

'You're right, Hermione,' Ron said slowly.  He smiled feebly. 'I guess we'll be looking for Scabbers all over again!' 

'I s'pose,' Harry said wearily.

Hermione glanced at him.

'You know, Harry,' she said.  'Remember what Hagrid said last year?  "_What's coming, will come, and we'll be there to meet it when it does." _  This just proves that there's no point in worrying about it now.  You have been given a gift to see into the future, or what's happening right now.  And you know what You-Know-Who is going to do next.  Now we can try to prevent it.'

Harry smiled at her.  She always had a way of cheering him up.

'I guess you're right again, Hermione,' he said.  'I can't afford to go to pieces like this.  We'll just have to keep a lookout for Pettigrew and watch our step.  Maybe Dumbledore'll have a plan before he manages to hurt anyone.'

'Did you send him an owl?'  Hermione asked.

'Yeah.  That's part of the reason we weren't at breakfast.'

The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes.  Finally, Hermione spoke again.

'Oh, what's the use in moping?' she said forcefully.  'Why don't we go to Hogsmeade with everyone else?'

The two boys agreed, so they grabbed their cloaks from their dormitory and walked out the portrait hole.

As they walked through the corridors, Harry perked up a bit more.  He was even feeling well enough to crack a joke.

'You know who's going to have a really good time with all this?' he asked.

They shook their heads, surprised by his sudden change of attitude.

'Crookshanks!' said Harry, and they all laughed.  Feeling much more cheerful, they walked out the wide oak doors and set off for Hogsmeade.

It was a chilly day in late October; Halloween was just next week.  Large pumpkins could be seen from every window, and the air was crisp with the scents of autumn.  The trio stayed huddled under their cloaks as they walked.

They entered the Honeydukes Sweetshop and emerged ten minutes later, slurping large, cinnamon/pumpkin-flavoured candy canes. By the time they had finished, Harry suggested that they go into the Three Broomsticks to warm up with some butterbeer.  The other two were more than willing; it was extremely windy outside.

It was warm and noisy inside the inn.  They each ordered a butterbeer from Madam Rosmerta and sat down at a table in the back.  Soon they were back on the subject of Voldemort.

'You know,' said Ron, 'if he _was_ trying to do you in again, don't you think we would've heard something about You-Know-Who by now?'

'You do have a point, Ron,' Harry said.  But he was soon distracted once again by his burning scar.

'_Ow!_' he moaned, rubbing his forehead.

Ron and Hermione exchanged tense glances.

'It's getting worse,' he told them quietly.  'It hurts worse and worse everyday.  He's getting closer.'

Hermione looked as if she were about to burst into tears, though she did have some words of wisdom again.  But when she spoke, her voice trembled.

'Harry, like I said before, you're really going to have to watch you're step from now on.  But we're forgetting about Dumbledore.  As long as he's around, You-Know-Who wouldn't touch you.  You-Know-Who's still afraid of him, isn't he?'

'Alright, alright,' said Harry in a defeated voice.  They finished their butterbeers and walked out the door.  

They were almost to the outskirts of Hogsmeade when Hermione cried out, 'Look, it's Snuffles!'

Harry and Ron whipped around to see a large black dog bounding towards them.

Seeing the curious looks of the villagers, they hastily dropped to their knees to pet and coo at Sirius, pretending he belonged to them.  

Once everyone had gone back to his or her business, Harry, Ron, and Hermione straightened up.  It was then that they realised that Sirius had a soiled piece of parchment clamped tight in his jaws.  He dropped the note at Harry's feet.  Harry picked it up and read: 

_Harry, we need to talk. Follow me._

He looked up at Ron and Hermione, who had read what Sirius had written over his shoulder, then looked back at Sirius and nodded.  The dog turned around and trotted towards Hogwarts.

********   

A/N: So what do ya think? Pretty good for a first fanfic, huh? You're all probably thinking, 'where's the romance?'  Be patient, my friends, it is on its way…


	2. Expelliarmus

**Author's Note:  For those of you who didn't read the *ahem* review I put for my own *cough cough* fic, I ask again for those of you who've read at least part of the DragonLance saga, please tell Crissy and me your favourite character out of Raistlin (oh yeah!) and Tasslehoff.  Thank you!!!**

Silent Tears 

Part II:

Expelliarmus 

Once they were out of sight of anyone who might be watching, Sirius leapt across the grounds, Ron, Harry, and Hermione literally on his tail.  They followed him at a sprint, passing the greenhouses and Hagrid's cabin, (which was empty—the three assumed that he was on business with Madame Maxime) then stopped at the Whomping Willow.  Sirius dodged between the fiercely fighting branches and pressed the freezing knot.  The willow stopped moving instantly, and the three fifteen-year-olds followed the large black dog through the passage in the roots.

Tens of minutes they walked, each remembering the many twists and turns.  It was even more difficult this year, running at a crouch, than it had been two years ago, since Harry and Hermione had been much shorter then.  Ron had been dragged down by Sirius, of course.  

When at last the snaking track had risen and ended, they stepped over the threshold of the Shrieking Shack.  Sirius led them upstairs to the very same room where they had first met.  He transformed back into a man and turned to face Harry.  

He was well groomed once again, having acquired a wand from Dumbledore.  His face was fuller, obviously benefiting from the food packages Harry had been sending him.

'I got an owl from Dumbledore today,' he said to them.  'Harry, I need you to tell me exactly what you saw.' 

 Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione, who nodded encouragingly, then took a deep breath.

'All right, Sirius," he said, and went on to explain his dream.  

When he had finished, Sirius looked at him with his deadened, haunted eyes, full of concern and worry for his godson.

'Harry, I'll say it again: as your godfather, my priority is to ensure your safety.  It all sounds very dodgy, but you still need to be on your guard.  Don't go out at night, especially since Pettigrew's on the loose again.  Though we may be able to catch him this time.'

'Hermione had a point, though,' said Ron.  'She said that—that maybe since he got a new hand, it'll show up when he's a rat.'

Sirius nodded in agreement.

'That _is_ something we could put into consideration,' he mused.  He paced around the room, running a hand through his somewhat grimy hair, then turned to face the others.

'Now, don't come sneaking out of school to visit me, okay?' he said.  'We don't want to make this too easy for him.'

Harry hadn't spoken for a long time.  He had sat down on the large four-poster bed, his head in his hands, staring at the floor.  Hermione sat down next to him and put a comforting arm around his shoulders.

'Sirius,' he said in a quiet voice, 'who do you think the girl is?'

Sirius frowned, his brow furrowed as he thought.

'Well, we don't exactly have no way to find out,' he said slowly, 'but we really don't have a way to, either.  So what I'm saying is for you to keep a lookout.  If anyone—especially any girls—acts oddly or out of habit, confront her.  It's all that we've got.'

Harry sighed, and nodded.

'Why did you take us here, Sirius?' he asked.  'What about that mountain cave?'

'It's caved in,' Sirius answered, 'completely blocked.  We really shouldn't meet in this place, since Snape knows about it.  But as long as you're not seen, it should be all right.' 

'Should we use my dad's Invisibility Cloak?' asked Harry.

'That would be a good idea,' Sirius replied.  He glanced out the window.  The sky was growing dark; the sun was setting, staining the sky blood red and deep purple.  'You three should be getting back to school.'

With that, Sirius transformed back into his canine form.  Harry and Hermione got to their feet, and they and Ron followed him out the door, down the stairs, and through the passage.  It was easy for him, with four paws and being so short, but the other three soon had sharp pains in their sides, running bent double.  

At long last, they saw the end of the tunnel.  Sirius ran ahead to press his paw against the knot on the Whomping Willow.  The three friends then clambered safely out of the roots and onto the cold ground.  They each patted Sirius on the head before he turned and bounded off towards Hogsmeade.  Then Harry, Ron, and Hermione set off back to the castle for dinner.

********** 

They entered the Great Hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table.  Harry picked at his food in a subdued manner, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his scar.  Ron and Hermione kept shooting him nervous glances as they ate their stew.  While he waited for them to finish, Harry scanned the Hall.  Over at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy was talking in a low voice to Crabbe and Goyle.  They looked over at Harry then continued with their conversation.  Harry rolled his eyes.  _Probably some new plot to, 'get us expelled,' _he thought.  His eyes travelled to the Ravenclaws, where he saw Cho Chang eating with her friends.  Harry felt terrible for her as he watched her sad, pale face.  She had been like this ever since the beginning of term.  Cedric's death had obviously had a more lasting affect on her than anyone else, except perhaps Harry.  For a split second, he was almost positive that she had held his gaze, but then, he was equally certain he had imagined it. 

Harry then looked across the Hall at the staff table.  He had been wondering what Snape had gone to do at the end of last year, ever since this year had started.  Snape appeared, if possible, even more sour and twisted than ever, though this may have been because he was sitting next to the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Figg.  Yes, this was indeed the same Mrs. Figg whom had babysat Harry in his childhood, in the years he had thought of himself as entirely non-magical.  The same crazy old lady who owned hundreds of cats, that the Dursley's had trusted as non-correspondent to magic of any sort.  It was enough of a shock finding her teaching at Hogwarts, let alone being a witch.  He supposed he should have known, as Sirius had been sent to find her at the end of last year.  If the Dursleys knew about all this, they would have been terrified beyond extent.  Harry grinned to himself as he imagined their petrified faces.

Then there, in the very centre of the table, as usual, was Albus Dumbledore.  For the first time since he had woken up that morning, Harry felt a bit calmer.  But then, Ron and Hermione were getting to their feet, so it was time to go.  Behind them, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle rose from the Slytherin table.  Harry, Ron, and Hermione were just walking into the entrance hall when—

'Potter!  Hey, Potter!'

The trio spun around to see Malfoy walking towards them.

'What do you want?' Harry asked coldly.

Harry thought he had a pained expression on his face.  Malfoy looked as if he were about to say something, but thought better of it.

'Oh, I was just wondering how your _scar _was doing,' he said in an innocent tone that deceived no one.

'And what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?' Harry snapped through clenched teeth.

It seemed as if he couldn't think of anything to say, so he said quickly, 'Well, I only just saw you, rubbing your head, and remembered how, _unstable_ you are.'

Harry raised his eyebrows.  This was getting a bit old, so why was he still on about it?  Obviously, most people thought so too, because those who had finished dinner were walking right passed them, even some Slytherins.  Perhaps Malfoy noticed this, because his face tinged to a slight pink, and he stalked away with Crabbe and Goyle at either side of him.

'What was _that_ all about?' Ron asked, wearing a bemused expression.  Harry shrugged.

'He's probably running out of things to pick on you about,' Hermione said.

'He's pathetic,' said Ron, shaking his head, and they walked up to Gryffindor Tower.

Up in his dormitory, Harry lay awake, turning it all over in his mind.  Malfoy was being a stupid git as usual, so that wasn't really relevant.  But he was afraid for the girl, whoever she was.  He really needed to find out who she was, before anything happened.  What worried him most was if it was someone he loved.  Hermione…or (his insides lurched)—even Cho…

********

By Monday, Harry was exhausted.  He had had very little sleep over the weekend, and the small amount that he did receive was haunted by cold, heart-stopping nightmares, that had ended with screams of pain and sorrow, and the occasional, evil cackle, with a strong blast of green light, when he awoke once more, shivering, praying with all his heart, that the girl would be spared.  The heavy workload that the teachers were piling down on them (they were to take their O.W.L.s in a few months) was almost as tiring as the emotional battle Harry was fighting within him.

Harry wearily walked to Defence Against the Dark Arts after breakfast.  Him, Ron, and Hermione sat at the front of the class, for that was how the seating arrangement had been set up at the beginning of the year.  They had no sooner taken their seats than Professor Figg walked through the door.  

Mrs. Figg—or rather, _Professor_ Figg—was dressed today in beautiful, deep purple robes.  The effect was startling to Harry at first, for he was so used to seeing her in Muggle clothing.  She was even somewhat attractive for such an old woman.  She sat down at her desk to address the class.

'Now, I know I promised on Friday that we would be going down to the library to research poison-detecting spells and charms,' she paused as the students looked up at her hopefully, 'but Professor Dumbledore wants me to teach you more on duelling.'

Harry and Ron grinned at each other as they remembered the Duelling Club that Professor Lockhart had set up three years ago.  Hermione rolled her eyes.

'First I want to see how well each of you can do with the Disarming Spell,' Professor Figg continued.  'For those who don't know, the incantation is, "_expelliarmus". _ Get out your wands, and I will assign partners then move the desks.'

The students stood up with their wands in hand.  Ron was paired up with Parvati, and Harry with Hermione.  Once everyone had a partner, Professor Figg waved her wand, and all of the desks flew against the wall and out of the way.

'Now, each of you face your partner and bow like so,' she said, leaning forward.  Everyone followed suite.  She paused, then said, 'On second thought, how about we have one partnership at a time.  Nasty accidents can happen with wands flying everywhere.'  The teacher gazed around the room.  'How about Mr Potter and Miss Granger?'

Harry and Hermione nodded and walked to the front of the room next to Professor Figg's desk.

'On the count of three, Hermione,' she told her.  'One—two—three—GO!'

'_Expelliarmus!_' Hermione cried, pointing her wand at Harry.  His wand flew high into the air and Ron caught it.

'That was very well done, Miss Granger!' said Professor Figg, 'Ten points to Gryffindor!  Now…Mr Potter.'

Ron handed Harry his wand.  Harry then turned and faced Hermione and grinned.

'All right, then Harry, on three,' Professor Figg instructed.  'One—two—three—NOW!'

 '_Expelliarmus!_' he shouted.  

But instead of Hermione's wand flying through the air, Harry's wand suddenly grew white hot, and so did his scar.  He was yelling, and he couldn't stop.  The room was spinning, then faded gradually into swirling white mist.  From far away, he could hear the screams of a young woman, hardly older than he was.  High, petrified, pleading screams, similar to his mother's when a Dementor gets too near.  These screams he recognised as those in his nightmares.  

All at once, the mist thinned.  Rain was falling on his face.  Through the haze of water and pain, Harry could make out the shapes of bare trees, silhouetted against the grey sky.  He walked forward and saw the huddled figures of a woman, a man, and several children.  Harry could hear their sobs even from this far away as they walked down a path to his right.  

Suddenly, Harry's foot struck something hard and he tripped headlong.  It was then that realised where he was.  

He was sitting in a graveyard.  He turned to look at the tombstone he had tripped over, and read the inscription:

_V.W._

_1981-1996_

_Dear, departed daughter_

_She will be missed_

_Forever._

Harry went numb with shock.  This meant the girl was going to die.  Then he wondered who else would.  Shaking, weak-kneed, he shifted his gaze to stare at the headstone next to the right of hers:

Harry J. Potter 

_1980-1996_

_The best friend_

_Anyone_

_Could ever ask for._

_He is with his parents_

_At last._

He just sat there, on the cold, wet ground, shaking with fear and sadness.  He suddenly became aware that somebody was standing behind him.  He sat up and turned around.

Hermione was gazing down at Harry's tombstone with the saddest expression you could imagine.  Nor was she the only one.  Ron walked up next to her, his blue eyes, which were usually alight with humour and mischief, were glazed over and staring blankly at the ground.  His face looked green, as if he were about to be sick.  Hermione drew out a pure white rose, so apparently delicate it could have been made of porcelain.  She dropped the perfect flower on Harry's grave, then pulled out another rose, this time blood red, and placed it on the girl's.  She turned towards Ron, buried her face in his chest, and wept, wept as if the whole world were suddenly at an end.  Ron wrapped his arms around her and held her in his tight embrace.  He seemed close to tears as well as he rocked Hermione back and forth.  Despite his efforts, a single tear glistened on his freckly cheek and slid down next to his nose.  More tears.  Silent tears.  He turned and looked at the grave next to Harry's and seemed to be fighting a severe inner struggle.  He drew in a shaking breath and turned around, his arm around Hermione's shoulders.  She leaned into him, and the two of them slowly walked away, Ron's shoulders slumped and Hermione's shaking with every heart-wrenching sob.

Harry watched them disappear with a mixture of many emotions.  Sadness.  Anger.  Confusion…and disbelief.  He wanted to wish it all away.  This was surely a nightmare that would pass.  He wanted to run to Hermione, kiss her lightly on the cheek, all the tears evaporating in an instant with the pain, and tell her he was all right, to comfort her.  But he knew it was no use.  But still…how could he be looking down at his own grave?  

Before he could figure this out, blackness sealed itself around him like a blanket.  He was falling through the icy air, forever, and ever, and ever…he couldn't move, he couldn't see or hear.  His head was pounding, and he felt his breath catch in his chest.  Then, quite suddenly, he felt himself slam, flat on his back, on a soft, feather bed.  All the wind seemed to be knocked out of him.  His head was swimming, and his wand hand was throbbing.  Harry could hear voices around him.

'Well, he's stopped shaking.'

'But Madam Pomfrey, he's so cold and pale.'

There was a pause.  Harry felt a hand slide over his throat.

'His heart rate seems back to normal, but his breathing is still far from regular.'

'Isn't there anything we can do for him?'

'Right now, Weasley, all we can do is wait.'

A tense silence followed this conversation.  Retreating footsteps could be heard.  Where was he?  Where were Ron and Hermione?  He needed them, and they needed him….

He struggled to open his eyes, but he felt paralysed.  His breath was coming in slow, painful gasps.  He had to say something.  Anything.  Harry tried desperately, whispering laboriously.

'Hermione…' he managed to choke out.

There was a sudden gasp.

'_Harry!_' said Hermione's voice.  Harry at first thought his hand was throbbing because of his wand, but when the pressure increased, he realised that Hermione was clutching it tightly in fright.  His scar was still stinging.

He still couldn't open his eyes.  _Help me_, he thought desperately, _please…do something…_

_It's okay, Harry,_ came Hermione's voice.

_But how _can_ it be?_ Harry asked in his mind._  I'm going to die…._

There was a deathly pause as Hermione drew in a sharp breath.

No, Harry… 

'No,' she said firmly.  To change the subject, it seemed, she asked him, 'Are you cold?'

'No,' he replied shakily.  

'But your skin is.'

Harry said nothing.  There was a splash of water.

'Your scar is burning,' she said.

'I know.'

'Let me cool it down for you.'

He felt a cold sponge touch his seething scar.  It stung for a moment and he grimaced in pain.  But after a while, the pain subsided, and he was able to open his eyes.  Everything was blurred.  He was lying again in the hospital wing, still in his school robes.  Hermione was leaning over him, one hand grasping his, and the other sponging his forehead.  Her face was stricken with worry, her brown eyes wide.  Ron was pale as death.

'You okay?' he asked uncertainly.

'I think so,' Harry answered.  He could feel cold sweat trickling over his face.  Maybe it was lucky, he thought once he had looked up, that his glasses were off, because he had a bird's-eye view of down Hermione's shirt.  Perhaps she realised this, because she sat back quickly in her chair, blushing furiously.  Harry managed a sheepish grin.  But then he remembered the dream, and stopped immediately.  Ron must have noticed this; he leaned forward to talk to Harry quietly.

'What happened?'

Harry tried to sit up, but his head pounded, and Hermione put a hand on his shoulder to force him back down, which he was grateful for.

'I dunno,' he said at last, 'you tell me.'

Ron looked as if he'd rather do anything else, but nonetheless, he dropped his gaze, took a deep, shuddering breath, and spoke in a low voice.

'After you said the incantation,' he began, 'you sort of stiffened, then started yelling, and collapsed.  And we tried to wake you up, but you just started saying weird things.  It was creepy, you know.  Your voice went all deep, and that's how we kind of knew when you were awake.  When you said her name.'  At this, Hermione gripped Harry's hand even harder, so he couldn't feel his fingers.  Harry glanced at her, and she nodded, loosening her grip.

'Professor Figg carried you up here,' Ron continued.  'And we've been here ever since.'

Harry flushed at the thought of his old babysitter carrying him up to bed again, like the child he used to be.

'What kind of just happened a second ago, Hermione?' Ron asked suddenly.  It then occurred to Harry and Hermione what had just took place.  

'Oh,' said Hermione.  She looked down at her hands.  'Nothing,' she mumbled.  She looked up at him.  'Maybe you should tell us about your dream, Harry.'

He didn't ask how she knew.  Harry tried to sit up again for his glasses, but he still couldn't move properly, so Hermione reached over and picked them up for him.  With shaking hands, he put them on.

'I heard screaming again,' he told them.  'They were different from my mum's, but there was something about them that sounded just like hers.  Then I was in a graveyard, and it was raining, and I saw a group of people walking down a path and crying.  Then I tripped over a headstone.  It was a girl's grave.  The initials were V.W. and the dates were 1981-1996.'  He swallowed, and then struggled with what he had to say next.  'The one next to hers was mine.'  Those silent tears he had seen on Ron's face in the dream were now falling slowly down Harry's.  At last he could raise his hand to wipe them away.  Hermione was surprised.  She had never seen Harry cry, never, even in the most trying of situations.  Maybe it was the fear of dying, or losing someone you loved.

'And then you two showed up,' he finished, his throat constricted.  He blinked and stared up at the ceiling.  It was some while before he could speak again.  'When I woke up, I heard your voice inside my head, Hermione.'

Hermione had her hands over her mouth.  Ron looked horrified.

'Do you think it was telepathy?' Ron said in a hushed voice.

'Could have been,' said Hermione softly, 'but I wouldn't believe it.'

*************

A/N: Yeah, I know, these chapters are kinda short.  I know it probably isn't very good, but according to all my friends and teachers, I'm obsessed.  I don't know…

Thank you all for reviewing!! This is my very first fic, so any suggestions of improvement are welcome.  Just to clarify, I suck at romanticish crud, snogging (making out) and stuff like that, so don't hurt me!!!  Just brace youselves, there _might _be some in the future…


	3. Telepathy Takes its Toll

Silent Tears 

Part III:

Telepathy Takes its Toll 

Meanwhile, in the Slytherin common room, Draco Malfoy woke with a start.  He had awoken from a vivid dream, sitting in an armchair by the fire, but couldn't remember what it had been about.  He knew one thing for sure: someone needed help.  He, whoever it was, was going to die.  But someone else was reassuring him.  A girl.  Hearing other's thoughts was unnerving him.  Then he thought back to Potter.  Again, he tried to be nice, but it turned around as an insult.  Of course, it wasn't exactly a Malfoy's instinct to be _nice_…especially to a _Gryffindor_…but then again, he didn't choose this life…. Draco rubbed his eyes, straining to hear the voices again, but to no prevail.  

The clock in the common room struck three o'clock.  _Oh, man…_he thought, _I'm supposed to be in_ _Potions_…. He sighed and heaved himself out of the armchair, setting off for the Potions classroom.

********

After a while, Harry finally regained use of his arms.  His throat was very dry, so Hermione helped him gulp down some water.  He had gotten back the colour in his face, and was feeling almost entirely back to normal, so Madam Pomfrey let him out.  Ron and Hermione escorted him to Potions class on either side of him.  Thankfully, it was the last lesson of the day.  Harry felt extremely drained, although he insisted on going to class.  He wasn't exactly sure why he wanted to go to class so badly, with everybody staring at him, and Potions was, of course, his least favourite subject.  

Sure enough, as Harry sat down at the back of the dungeon with Ron and Hermione, people stared at him and whispered behind their hands. He ignored them; he was busy screwing up his tolerance for the lesson.  Malfoy shot him a strange look from the front of the class.

Snape stormed in, his long black robes billowing out behind him as he walked briskly to the blackboard.

'Today we will discuss healing potions,' said Snape in his usual soft, deadly voice, as if it was the most ludicrous topic he could think of.  'Tell me, Potter, what are the ingredients of a Pepper-Up Potion?'

**********

'Tell me, Potter, what are the ingredients of a Pepper-Up Potion?'

Draco thought Harry looked startled at the question.  Hermione's hand shot into the air.

'Er,' said Harry nervously.

Suddenly, Draco heard the female voice again.

_Bicorn horn and mandrake root…bicorn horn and mandrake root…_

'Bicorn horn and mandrake root,' Harry said at once.  Hermione dropped her hand.  Snape looked disappointed.

'How about a _Grand_ Pepper-Up Potion, Potter?' he hissed, clearly trying to get Harry to screw up.

'Um…uh…' came the reply.  Then, almost immediately—

_Octopus powder, two bicorn horns, three mandrake roots…_

'Octopus powder, two bicorn horns, and three mandrake roots,' Harry reeled off.

Snape was murderous.  'Very well,' he said with difficulty.  

Another voice, this time male, entered Draco's head.

_Thanks, Hermione._

_ Anytime, Harry._

Suddenly realising who they were, a thought struck him.  If he could hear them, maybe they could hear him….

_So, Potter,_ thought Draco, _Granger's feeding you answers, is she?  Shame, shame, shame…_

_ Who's that?_ said Harry.

_Harry? _asked Hermione_._

_ No, that's someone else…_

_ Well, that shouldn't be too hard, now should it?_

_ Ron?_

_ No, guess again._

There was a pause.

_MALFOY! _Hermione's voice screamed.  Harry and Draco put their hands on their heads in pain, unnoticed, thankfully, by anyone else.

_Jeez, Hermione, calm down…_

_ Sorry, Granger, I didn't think you would get all jumped up about me talking to you inside your head…_

_ Malfoy, stop it!_

_ What is this, three-way calling? _said Harry.

_Huh?_

_ Never mind._

_ I'm serious, Malfoy, shut up now! _Hermione ordered.

_Maybe you could just tune us out for a while?  I want to talk to Potter._

_ What do you want to talk to me for?_

_ Just go, Granger._

_ Fine._

_ Bookluver101 has left the room._

_ Oh, very funny, Potter._

_ You really think so? _Harry asked in mock surprise. _ I don't know, I was actually trying for sarcasm…_

As Malfoy couldn't think of anything to say to this, they didn't say anything for a while.

_You know, this is really weird. _Harry said.  _First I can hear one of my best friends inside my head, then I can hear my archenemy as well.  Hm, maybe I should save a place for that big stupid purple dinosaur…_

_ That's what I wanted to talk to you about._

_ What, the big stupid purple dinosaur? _Harry teased.

_No, you stupid prat.  I don't even know what the hell you're talking about…_

_ Lucky for you._

_ So anyway…_

There was silence.

_Remember yesterday when I asked about your scar? _Draco said at last.

_Mm, yeah._

_ I think we need to start a clean slate.  You know, be friends.  No one has to know.  It can be…our little secret._

_ I dunno, Malfoy.  I can't help but think you're up to something…_

_ Look, Potter, yesterday I was actually about to say something nice, but it just came out wrong._

_And your point is…?_

_ My _point _is that you can trust me._

Again, they were silent.

_You know what, Malfoy? _Harry thought irritably, _Could we talk about this some other time?  I'm trying to hear what Snape is saying._

_ Wow, that's a first._

_ Well, there goes the I-want-to-be-nice approach._

_ No, I'm serious, that's a first._

_ Well, in any case, I'd rather listen to Snape than you._

_ I know perfectly well that you don't give a damn what Snape has to say._

_ So what if I don't?_

_ Just hear me out._

_ Why should I?_

_ Listen, Potter, I just want to help…_

_ First of all, you never said that—_

_ Well, now I have._

_ And secondly, _Harry continued, ignoring Draco's response, _I don't need your help.  What makes you think I do?_

_ You know things.  You see them, I hear them.  If we could put them together, then maybe we could get some answers._

Harry was dubious.  Was Malfoy actually trying to help him?  Maybe he had a little too much to drink last night….

_Hey, I can still hear you, Potter…_

_ Well, why do you suddenly what to change?_

_ Listen, I may be a Slytherin, and a Malfoy to top it off, but that doesn't mean I don't want some crackpot old have-brained bastard that needs a make-over to take over the world!_

_True, but is this some kind of joke, Malfoy?_

_ Potter, if it were a joke, wouldn't I be laughing by now?  Genius…_

_ Kiss my ass, Malfoy._

_ Oh, I know you'd love me to, but it is my belief that it would be highly unsanitary._

CRASH.

There was a loud thud as Harry's chair hit the floor with a clatter; his fist smashed into Malfoy's face, sending him reeling backwards.  Catching his balance, Malfoy rammed his elbow into Harry's stomach, causing the taller and physically better-built boy's emerald green eyes to widen in pain behind his glasses.  Malfoy, being smaller and somewhat faster, took this opportunity to give him an uppercut that sent him sprawling.  Harry's foot flashed out, catching Malfoy's shin, and causing him to topple over backwards.  In a flash, Harry was on top of him, smashing his head repeatedly on the floor. Bringing his knee up into Harry's stomach, Malfoy knocked the wind out of him, causing him to crash down on the floor beside him.

The entire classroom stared bug-eyed at the two boy's struggle.  Hermione and Ron scrambled over, helping Harry to his feet, while Ron 'accidentally' stepped on Malfoy's wrist.  In a flash, Snape was there, taking an unreasonable amount of points from Gryffindor, and picking Malfoy up off the floor.  Panting from the adrenaline rush, the boys glared menacingly at each other, swearing colourfully back and fourth through their telepathy.

'DETENTION!' Snape barked. 'To Mister Harry Potter for an unprovoked attack on Mister Draco Malfoy!'

Harry shot Draco and Snape a look of pure venom as Ron and Hermione half-lifted him back on his chair (after Seamus had righted it).

*********

'Way to go Harry!' Ron shouted enthusiastically, thumping his injured and far less-than-happy friend on the back—they had just walked out of the Potions dungeon, and were headed off towards the Great Hall for dinner.  'You sure beat the crap out of old blondie!'

Harry looked down at his ripped and torn robes and his bruised stomach, where Malfoy had elbowed and kneed him.  He wiped the blood away from his cut lip. 'Yeah, but I didn't fair too well, either, did I?'  Malfoy, he had to admit, was pretty strong for someone so puny, but he would NEVER on his life admit to even _thinking_ that.

'But where on earth did all that come from?' Hermione asked.  'The last thing I hear before I stopped listening was "I can help"—'

'You were listening?' Harry said indignantly.

Hermione looked up at him guiltily.  Ron was bewildered.

'What?' he said incredulously.  'Are you two still doing that?'

'Er, yeah,' Hermione answered.  'Uh, I was feeding him the answers for Potions class.' She grinned.

Ron smiled. 'So, you were using your potentially dangerous powers to cheat in Potions class—finally you have seen the light!'

Even Hermione had to laugh at that.  Still sniggering, they sat down at the Gryffindor table.

Harry had nearly finished eating when Malfoy caught his eye.  Harry glared at him.

_What do you want now, Malfoy?_

_ Oh, nothing.  I just decided that I won't help you anymore._

_ Oh, good.  Now I only have to listen to your real voice._

_ Potter, you can't just tune me out, you know.  I don't even know how Granger managed to do it.  You know how hard it can be?_

_ I can sure try…_

_ You're such a jackass.  I don't even know why I even suggested becoming friends…_

Harry snorted and finished eating.

Finishing before everyone else, he got up, heading out for some early Quidditch practise.  

At the same time, a small group of very large Slytherins stood up—not including Malfoy, who didn't seem to even notice them—and followed Harry out of the Hall.  

Harry saw them following him and quickly turned a corner and slipped into an empty classroom.  The evil-looking boys walked right past, muttering to each other.  Once they were out of sight, Harry darted out and headed the opposite direction.  He was turning another corner, when who should he meet, but those burly Slytherins.  They leered at him menacingly, cracking their knuckles and advancing on him.  Harry backed up until his back was pressed against the wall.  There was no escape.

'What do you want?' he hollered.  'What the hell—'

But his words were cut short as a large fist was thrust into his stomach once again.  Another hit him hard against the face, almost knocking him out.  Gasping for breath, he pulled out his wand, but his wrist was pinned to the wall and it fell out of his grasp, clattering to the floor.  He braced himself for another blow when—

'WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!'

Three of the bullies spun around stupidly, two of them still holding Harry to the wall.  He looked up to see who had shouted—it was Malfoy.

'Let go of him!' he said fiercely.  They didn't move.

'But—we heard that he beat you up in Snape's class,' one of them ventured dimly.  

Malfoy gaped at him disbelievingly, pulling out his wand.

'Clear off!' he snarled, and the five boys dropped Harry and fled as if a bomb was about to go off.

Draco dashed over to Harry and held out his hand.

'Are you alright?' he asked roughly.

Harry glanced up at him, annoyed.

'Yeah, sure, I'm just fine.  Me and those guys back there just had a rousing game of Yatzee then went out for ice cream with sprinkles.  No, how do you think I'm feeling?'

Malfoy raised an eyebrow and dropped his hand.

'Wow, becoming Quidditch captain has really sharpened your verbal skills, hasn't it?'

'Watch it, Malfoy.  If I wasn't feeling like this right now I would most likely hit you again for that.'  As he spoke, he coughed violently, and blood oozed out of his mouth.  He wiped it away with a shaking hand.  Malfoy grimaced.

'Oh, that looks delicious.  I'm _so_ glad I just ate,' he said, watching Harry on the floor.  'And you're welcome.'

Harry glared at him again, struggling to get to his feet, but failed and slumped against the wall.

'There's a good idea,' Malfoy drawled.  But then a more serious expression took the place of the sneer.  'Look, how about you stay here, and I'll go and get Granger and Weasley.  You will be here when I get back, won't you?'

'Does it really look like I'm going to stand up and run a mile?' Harry asked waspishly.  'As if you'd care, anyway.' Draco looked stung.

'I'll be right back,' he said, and dashed back towards the Great Hall.

At the Gryffindor table, Ron and Hermione were laughing.  It seemed that Neville had somehow managed to half-Transfigure Seamus into a rabbit, meaning he had the long fuzzy ears, whiskers, and buckteeth, but the rest of his body was normal.  Hermione was just pulling out her wand to change him back when Draco Malfoy came sprinting towards them.

'Granger!' he gasped, skidding to a halt in front of her.  She shot Ron a quizzical look, and he shrugged.

'What is it?' she snapped.  But Malfoy was too out of breath to answer, so he seized her wrist and pulled her out of the Great Hall, Ron right behind them.  Draco led them down a corridor to where a huddled lump was slumped against the wall.

'Harry!' Hermione shrieked.  She fell on her knees next to him.  '_What did you do to him?'_  she hissed at Malfoy.

'I didn't do anything!' he said indignantly, finally regaining his breath.  'I was just walking along here, minding my own business, when I found a bunch of idiots beating the crap out of him!  And for your information, I called them off!'

Hermione and Ron's jaws fell to the floor in shock.  Ron turned to Harry and said quietly, 'Is that true?'  Harry nodded.  After a while, Hermione spoke.

'Here, Harry, let me fix those cuts,' she said, pulling out her wand again.  Ron glanced menacingly at Malfoy, who turned around and dolefully sloped away.  Harry gazed after him over Hermione's wand.

_Hey, Draco,_ he thought.

_What?_

_Thanks._

_*********_

**A/N:  Well, here you go!  I would also like to thank my good friend ObSeSsIvE_compulsive_ 666 (a.k.a Crissy) for helping me with this chapter.  The first fight scene was her doing.  She prodded me along for the second one, even though I wrote it.  She has also helped me with future chapters.  So thank you, thank you!  **


	4. A Strange Encounter

A/N:  Yeah, you probably have all guessed by now who "the girl" is (not gonna say who, just in case there are some slow peeps out there who haven't already guessed…).  But are you sure…?  *evil laughter*  Muhahahahaha! Silent Tears 

Part IV:

A Strange Encounter 

After assuring Hermione that he was feeling well enough to fly, Harry walked out to the darkening Quidditch pitch and took off on his Firebolt.  The cold wind rushed past his face, lifting all the fear and tension he had been feeling for days. 

Circling the goal posts, he dove and spun, waiting for the rest of his team to show up, which they did quite quickly.

Ron, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, Fred and George Weasley, and the new Chaser (in place of Angelina Johnson) fourth year Alex Prelling.  She was and exchange student from America and Ginny Weasley's best friend.  Alex stared at Harry in amazement.

'Dude, that was, like, so cool!' she exclaimed.  'Totally awesome!  Ginny wasn't kidding when she said you can fly!'

'Thanks,' Harry said, unperturbed by Alex's American slang.  'So what kind of brooms do they sell in the States?'

The girl with long dark hair held up her broomstick.  It was made of mahogany with shimmering purple and orange stripes that ran down the handle, curling up at the ends.

'Check it out,' Alex said proudly.  'PhoenixFlyer400.  Fastest line in the U.S.' She gestured toward the silver writing emblazoned on the handle.  

'Very cool,' said Ron.  There was a pink tinge around his ears.  It seemed that he was very taken with this new girl.  'So, Captain,' he said mockingly to Harry, 'what's the game plan?'

As Harry went over the new strategy he had formulated, Alex's eyes wandered.  Harry's lectures never held her exactly spellbound.  Through the tall grass on the other side of the fence, near the Forbidden Forest, she saw a glimmer of silvery light.  Whatever it was was moving extremely quickly, and was very small.

'Hey, Harry,' she blurted out.

'What?' he replied, looking slightly annoyed at the interruption.

'There's something over there, in the grass,' she said, pointing to where she saw the flash.

Harry's eyes widened behind his glasses.

'What did it look like?' he pressed on.

'Something shiny.  I don't know, it might've been nothing.'

'And on the contrary, it might've been something.' Ron said, visibly alarmed.  'C'mon, let's go have a look.'

The team trooped into the Forbidden Forest and split up, most with confused looks on their faces, wondering what they were supposed to be looking for.  

Alex wandered around aimlessly, though her eyes and ears were sharp.  Suddenly, the rustling of leaves caught her attention.  She walked forward cautiously, not knowing what to expect.  The tiny glistening light was made visible to her eyes by a shaft of the dimming sunlight streaming through the canopy of leaves.  She followed it for some time, not understanding why she didn't call for Harry.  She was a little scared of him; Ginny had told her exactly how powerful he was.  His startling green eyes made Alex melt. That lightning bolt scar made her shiver.  And his warm smile made her feel accepted in this new country.  She liked him a lot.  Hell, she loved him.  

The shimmering light led Alex to a small, enclosed clump of trees and bushes.  Then it suddenly disappeared.  She inched closer curiously, desperate to solve this mystery.  

Holding her breath, she took a step closer.  All of a sudden, the rustling grew louder, and a large, silvery hand poked out of a nearby bush.  It looked almost exactly like the shiny object she had been following.  The fingers drew out and pointed at her.

'_Stupefy!' _said a raspy voice.  

Alex let out a long, blood-curdling scream as a jet of red light burst forth from the shining fingers.  All at once, she was swallowed into darkness.

*********

Harry's eyes scanned the ground.  He pushed bushes aside as he looked for some sign pointing the way.   He was almost positive that the flashing light that Alex had seen had been Pettigrew.  

Just then, something on the ground caught his eye.  On closer inspection, he realised what they were.  Footprints.  Rat footprints.

'Hey Ron!' he hollered.  'Come and look at this!'  Ron scrambled over to Harry, who pointed down at the ground.  Ron stooped down to look at the prints in the soft earth.  Then he looked up at Harry.

'Pettigrew,' they said together.  And they followed the tiny marks deeper into the forest

They led the boys to a large clump of trees.  A rustling sound told them they were right on target.  Suddenly, the silence was shattered by an ear-splitting scream.

'Alex?' Harry called.  He was sure it had been her.  He cast a sideways glance at Ron, who nodded, and they barrelled through the undergrowth.  

Without warning, Harry's scar burned sharply.  He moaned and covered his face with his hands.  Eyes watering, he peered through his fingers.  There, lying in a clearing, was Alex.  And she wasn't alone.  Pettigrew was crouched over her, doing something with her hair.  Harry and Ron stood their ground just as Pettigrew looked up.  His face blanched.

'Run, Harry Potter,' he whispered. 'Run,' 

Harry didn't know what to do: run or attack.  He then recalled something Dumbledore had once said. _'…the time may come when you will be very glad you saved Pettigrew's life.'  _Ron gaped at him, then whipped out his wand.  

'_Stupefy!' _he roared, but at that very second, Wormtail turned back into a rat, the curse missing him by inches.  The rat scampered through the underbrush and out of sight.

'_Damn_ it!' Ron howled.  'I almost got him!'

Panting, Harry dashed towards Alex.  He bent down and lifted her off the ground, amazed at his own strength.

'Ron,' he said, 'get the rest of the team and meet me back at the pitch.'  Ron dashed away, calling everyone back to the field.  Harry got there first and laid Alex down in the grass.  Kneeling next to her, he fumbled with his wand.  

'_Ennervate,'_ he muttered, pointing it at her.  Her brown eyes fluttered open, looking dazed and confused.  She moaned and raised a hand.

'Harry…' she murmured.

'Shh…' said Harry, moving away from her awkwardly.  'It's all going to be okay…'

Soon sudden footsteps could be heard.  Ron and the rest of the Gryffindor team had rushed back to the field.

'What happened?' they all asked as one.  Harry glanced at Alex, who was extremely pale.  She sat up.

'I saw—'

'Nothing,' Harry said firmly.  'She just took a bad fall.'  His scar was still stinging.

Alex looked up at him curiously.  Ron opened his mouth to say something, but at the look on Harry's face stopped, thought quickly, and said, 'Hey, Alex, if you're feeling well enough, I'll race you around the pitch.'

Her face broke into a grin.

'You're on,' she said, standing up and grabbing her broomstick.

'What's wrong with your hair?' Katie Bell asked suddenly.

'Huh?'

Katie pointed to a lock of Alex's hair.  It was shorter than the rest and appeared to have been singed off; it was a strange black colour.

'Omigod!' she said, feeling her hair.  'I am so going to kill whoever did that!'

'Relax, Alex, it's only hair,' Ron said, grinning at her.  'It'll grow back.  But if you want, I could to an Engorgement Charm to make it grow right now.'

'Ooo…thanks,' she said as it grew back to its original length.

'Shall we, then?' Ron asked, pocketing his wand and picking up his broomstick.

'Sure,' said Alex, rocketing away.  There was no denying that her broom was the fastest in the United States.  Harry started yelling at them to get back on the ground, finally kicking off on his Firebolt and chasing them around the stadium until they landed, laughing.  Surprisingly enough, Alex's PhoenixFlyer400 outstripped Harry's Firebolt by about two miles per hour.

At the end of practise, when everyone was walking back up to the castle and Harry and Ron were putting the balls away, Alex hung back.  She wanted an explanation for why Harry had stopped her from telling the team what she saw.

'Hey, Harry?' she said.

'Mm?' he answered, lifting the heavy box in his strong arms and walking with Ron to the broom shed.

'Can I ask you something?'

Harry smiled.  'Well, you already have, but I guess you can.'

'Remember what happened in the forest?  Why didn't you let me tell everyone what I saw?' 

Harry and Ron stopped dead in their tracks.  They looked uncomfortably at each other before answering.

'I'm sorry, but we can't really tell,' Ron said.  'The thing is, it's a long story, and no one would believe you.'

'Try me,' she insisted.

'I'm sorry, but if you knew the truth, it would only confuse you more and get you in trouble.'

'I won't tell anyone.'

'No.'

'Fine.' She stalked away.  Ron gave Harry a pleading look, and Harry sighed and nodded, bowing to the inevitable.  'Alright, alright, go ahead.'  Ron grinned, and called ahead.

'Okay, Alex, you win.'  Alex spun around and walked back over to them, a satisfied gleam in her eyes.  Ron took a deep breath.  'You promise not to tell anyone?  Even Ginny, or any teacher?'

'Yes.'

'Seriously, because there are some things that you _really _shouldn't know.'

'_Yes._'

'Alright.  Harry, maybe you should tell her…'

Harry sighed, and began telling her the whole story, starting from fourteen years ago, to two years ago, and to just last year.

'…and to fool all of mankind, he cut off his finger after blasting apart a dozen Muggles, framing Sirius Black, and getting him sent to Azkaban, and then I found out that Sirius Black was innocent, and he was my dad's best friend, his best man, my godfather, and that Pettigrew was the real traitor.  Then last year, he cut off his hand for Voldemort, and Voldemort gave his that new shiny one.  Oh, yeah,  then I made the really stupid mistake two years ago in saving Pettigrew's life, so Sirius is still on the run since then when he managed to escape.  And Pettigrew can turn into a rat, and his nickname's Wormtail.'  He drew breath at last.  Alex's mouth was hanging open.

'Holy crud,' she whispered dazedly.  'Well, I promise I won't tell anyone…that's _way_ more complicated than I thought it would be…'

'Right, well, it's not very safe out here,' Ron said, ''Cos if Wormtail's here, so is You-Know-Who…'  He shivered, then took Alex's hand.  'C'mon.'

By the time night fell, Alex had to admit that there was someone she liked even more than Harry Potter—Ron Weasley.

********

'You wanted to see me, Professor?' Harry said, walking into Dumbledore's beautiful circular office.  Fawkes the phoenix was standing on his golden perch, watching him peacefully.

'Yes, I did, Harry,' he answered, gesturing at the empty seat in front of his desk.  Harry sat down.

'Do you have anything you need to talk to me about?' Dumbledore asked after a moment of silence.

'Yes, sir,' Harry answered at once.  He went on to explain all about the incident during Quidditch practise last Monday, from when Alex first spotted Wormtail to when he and Ron discovered her lying on the ground with Wormtail standing over her, doing something with her hair.

'You said it looked as if it had been burned off?' asked Dumbledore.  Harry nodded.  He considered for a moment telling Dumbledore about the dream in the graveyard, but decided against it.  Dumbledore stared at him intently for a moment, then sighed. 

'That is all, Harry, you may go.'  Harry got to his feet and walked out of the office. As he left, he saw Dumbledore go to the large black cabinet that held the Pensieve.  A sudden shiver ran up his spine.  He had the strange feeling that Dumbledore could read his mind, and knew all about the dream in the graveyard.  

Not wanting to be discovered spying on Dumbledore, he descended down the revolving staircase.  He had the feeling that Dumbledore wasn't telling him something.  But maybe he was better off not knowing, if he chose to disclose that information.

********

On Thursday morning, which was also Halloween, the three friends sat next to each other at the table, chatting dismissively about nothing in particular.  Ron was in the middle of stuffing down another piece of bacon into his mouth when the owls flew in.  Hermione received her usual copy of the _Daily Prophet_, and Ron a letter from his mother.  Taking a large swig of pumpkin juice, Hermione opened her paper and looked at the headline.  Instantly, she made a strangled choking noise and spat out the pumpkin juice all over the table—and Harry.

'What's the matter, Herm?' Ron asked, leaning over and looking at the paper in her hand.  Immediately, he began choking on his bacon.

'What is it?' Harry asked, alarmed.  'Is this a choking contest, or did some other sick-minded reporter find more dirt on me?  Oh, and by the way, thanks for that shower of pumpkin juice, Hermione, I really needed—' But he stopped short, goggling at the headline:

AZKABAN VOID OF DEMENTORS 

**BELIEVED TO BE THE WORK OF**

**HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED**

A sudden hush swept the Hall as everyone saw the banner headline.  People exchanged looks of shock, disbelief, and panic, some glancing over at Harry.  Up at the High Table, Professor McGonagall stood up and whispered something in Dumbledore's ear.  Dumbledore frowned, and, seeing nearly every face in the Hall turned to his, he stood up and spoke to the school.

'I am sure you are all aware of Lord Voldemort's return,' he began calmly.  'I can assure you that none of you will fall into harm's way, as long as you are within these school grounds.  To ensure your safety, please do not leave this castle after dark.  Remember that the Dementors are able to see—or rather, sense—through disguises or Invisibility Cloaks.  You have all been warned.'

He resumed his seat.  The students all sat, stunned, for a few minutes, then those who had finished breakfast went off to their first lessons.

The classes seemed to shoot by.  Harry felt like he was walking in a dream.

The Dementors left Azkaban?  Why?  How?  Harry thought as he sat, staring at the blazing common room fire before him.

_Shut up, Potter…_came a drawling, annoyed voice that sounded groggy.  _I'm ATTEMPTING to sleep here._

_In the middle of the day?_

_Yeah…today is Halloween, everyone is going to be up all night!_

_Well, I'm sorry.  I just assumed that most people slept at night, and you of all people worried about sleep…_

_Where do you think I get all that energy from?_

_*Cough cough*_

_Can it, Four-Eyes._

_Fine, Blondie._

*********

At last it was time for the Halloween feast.  The three friends sat at the Gryffindor table, laughing as they ate and drank, forgetting all their troubles for the sake of the event.

But more were soon to come.

During their fourth helpings of pumpkin pie was when it all started.  All at once, Harry noticed something not out of the ordinary, but certainly odd.  Gradually, very gradually, his scar began to burn.  At first he didn't notice it, thinking of it as merely a spasm or a headache, but it grew hotter and hotter as the seconds passed.  A convulsive shiver ran through his body as he raised a cold hand to his forehead.  The pain began to get so intense that his eyes burned as well.  Cold sweat was trickling down his forehead.  He rested his head in his hands, trying to draw breath.

'What's up, Harry?' asked Ron, his eyes widening.

'Nothing, it's just that…'  Instinctively, but not meaning to, he glanced across the Hall over to the Slytherin table.  His watering eyes lingered on an empty seat—Malfoy's.

_Er, Potter, we've got a bit of a problem here, _came Malfoy's voice, sounding panicky.

_Where are you? _thought Harry distractedly.

_Never mind that, _Draco snapped.  _They're coming!_

_Who?_

_Not who, what!  The De—_

But what, Harry never found out.  All the candles, even those which were in the carved pumpkins, were suddenly extinguished.  An icy chill swept the Hall, and the buzz and chatter stopped instantly.  Several people screamed.  Then the great oak front doors burst open.

For a split second, Harry thought it was a giant black cloud, or some kind of mirage created by the Death Eaters.  Then it hit him—it was thousands of twelve-foot-tall, hooded creatures.  The Dementors had come.

Harry's strength was ebbing away.  He stood up, but felt his knees hit the floor.

'Harry, stop!' screamed Hermione.  'Let Dumbledore handle it…' She stopped.  She had fainted.  Harry heard Ron hit the floor after her.  Harry struggled to his feet.  He had to save the school.  He had to.

Well, maybe not the Slytherins, but it was kind of a package deal: all or nothing.

So anyway…

Soon he was the only student left standing.  Most of the teachers had dropped as well.  But then Harry's vision went blurry.  He could no longer see.  It was now or never.

Screwing up what was left of his energy, he raised his wand high.

'_Expecto patronum!' _he shouted.  His silvery Patronus charged at the Dementors.  Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw something else resembling a Patronus rush at them, but his eyelids were flickering, so he couldn't be sure.  Those that had people by the neck dropped them back to the floor.  But that wasn't all they did.  The Dementors froze, unable to move, then burst into tiny wisps of smoke.  

Harry stood still, amazed at what he had done.  The candles were rekindling, and the warmth returning.  People were standing up at last, some taking longer than others.  Then he realised that he wasn't the only one who had sent a Patronus.  Albus Dumbledore was standing quite steadily, holding his wand in the air.  

Soon everyone was back in their seats, staring at Harry and Dumbledore.  The scene swam strangely before his eyes.  Nothing made sense.  His wand dropped from his sweating fingers.  Too much of his energy had been sucked out of him by the combined powers of the Dementors and his Patronus.  The last thing he remembered seeing was Ron and Hermione dashing to his side.  Then darkness closed itself around him, and he knew no more.

********

What felt like hours later, Harry heard something.  But this time it wasn't the screaming.  It was laughing.  A high, cold, cruel cackle that sent a chill up his spine.  Not that he didn't recognise it.

Suddenly, very suddenly, a blast of light hit his eyes.  He yelled and fell backwards.  Then the light dimmed slightly, and he saw a somewhat familiar scene.

He was back in the graveyard.  But the weather was very different.  It was a gorgeously sunny day.  Right in front of him was a man and a woman.  

The woman seemed to be crying.  The man simply stood there.  Harry got to his feet and moved closer to see the tombstone they were staring at.

_Draco T. Malfoy_

_1980-1996_

_Eternally linked._

'There, there, Narcissa,' the man was saying.  It was Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.  'You shouldn't waste your breath feeling sorry for the boy—he was quite worthless, and a traitor at that.  To be frank, I must say, it's good that he's gone.  He would have turned me in with Death Eater tattooed on my forehead if he survived.  And think of it this way, the Potter boy is gone as well.'  Narcissa nodded, probably deciding it best not to answer.

Harry then saw that Malfoy was buried next to his and the girl's graves.  The two roses were still there, in perfect condition.  Harry supposed that this dream Hermione had put some kind of Freezing Charm on them to make them last forever.  But he was still confused.  Now _Malfoy_ was going to die as well?

'So, Potter, found my grave, have you?'

Harry spun around to find Draco Malfoy leaning against a nearby tree.

'I always thought I knew how cruel your father is,' Harry said, 'but this just proves that he's ten times worse.'

'Stupid bastard,' sighed Draco, shaking his head. 

Harry was goggling at him, first looking at him, then at his grave, where his parents were still standing.

'How—how did you manage to get in _my _dream?' he managed to ask, entirely bewildered.  

Draco rolled his eyes, obviously annoyed.

'It's this stupid mind-link thing,' he muttered.  'If one of us passes out, so does the other.  If one of us feels some kind of magical pain, so does the other.  If one of us dies, so does the other.'

Harry stared.

'Which means I felt when your scar was hurting—what was it?—a few hours ago?'

Harry nodded, then spoke at last.

'What about Hermione?'

Draco shrugged.  'I suppose she's not as closely connected to us as you and I are,' he suggested.  'Her ability is probably more voluntary, meaning she can could probably read your thoughts at will.'

Harry scowled, irritated by the fact that Draco knew more about telepathy and ESP than he did, and kind of creeped out by thinking that Hermione knew what he was thinking without him knowing it.

'So, where _were _you?' he asked.  Malfoy looked down, avoiding his gaze.

'Just taking a walk outside,' he said shiftily.  Catching Harry's suspicious glare, he added, 'What?'

'How did you know about the Dementors?' Harry pressed on.

Malfoy rolled his eyes again.

'They aren't exactly difficult to see at a distance,' he drawled.  'Honestly, this dream world is really slowing you down, isn't it?'

Harry ignored him.  But then he suddenly noticed something: Malfoy was fading like a morning mist.  Malfoy must have seen it as well; soon he was shouting, 'Potter!  What's going on?'

'I don't know!  Maybe the dream is ending…'  He was right, because the darkness was returning.

*********

'Harry!  Harry!  Wake up!  Oh, come on…' Ron's voice pleaded.

'Patience, Mr Weasley, he will wake when he is ready.'

Harry snapped open his eyes.  His glasses were off, and he was back in the hospital wing.  Ron, Hermione, and Professor Dumbledore were all gathered around him.  Ron looked intensely relieved to see that he was awake.

'Oh, thank God!' he said. 'That was one heck of a Patronus…'

Dumbledore smiled down at Harry.  'You gave us quite a scare indeed, Mr Potter.  All the energy that you put into your Patronus nearly killed you.  For the longest time, were afraid it had.  Though I must say it was quite an accomplishment…'

'How long have I been in here?' Harry asked, seeing that, through the window, the sun was setting.

'Only a day,' Hermione said quietly.  Her eyes were extremely bloodshot, as if she had been up for hours.

'But I don't get it,' said Harry, trying to prop his elbow up on his pillows.  'Why—?'

'You are a very powerful wizard, Harry,' Dumbledore said, answering his unfinished question.  'Our two Patronuses combined destroyed every Dementor that entered the school.  There are more out there, of course…I presume that Lord Voldemort sent those here, and is keeping the rest well hidden….'

There was a long, awkward silence as each person sat, lost in thought.

Hermione's voice suddenly came into Harry's head.

_Oh, Harry, I'm so glad you're okay!  We all thought you had died…_

A rather annoyed voice protruded into Harry's and Hermione's thoughts. 

_While you two are having a happy little reunion, I'm lying out here on the cold WET ground…oh, yeah, AND I CAN'T SEEM TO BE ABLE TO MOVE!_

_Hang on a minute, Malfoy, I'm busy right now! _Hermione snapped.  _And Harry can't move that well, either.  We'll get you as soon as we can…_

_Gee, I feel so loved._

Dumbledore stood up.

'I wish for you to stay the weekend, Harry,' he said, drowning out Hermione's and Malfoy's voices.  'Perhaps some chocolate, and some sleep,' he added, noticing Harry's depressed expression.

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey came bustling over, bearing a tray of chocolate and Sleeping Potion.  She set it down  on his bedside table.  'Eat your chocolate, Potter, then drink the potion,' she said.  'Goodness knows you've had enough with dreams.'

Harry nodded, without it occurring to him what she meant.  Then he sat bolt upright and broke into a cold sweat.

'Professor Dumbledore!' he said frantically. 'Draco Malfoy's out in the Forbidden Forest!'

Dumbledore looked mildly surprised.

'Really, now, what on earth would he be doing down there?'

'He—he said he was taking a walk…then the Dementors came…I passed out, and so did he…'

'I will go and find him,' said Dumbledore, striding out of the ward.

Ron's bewildered face almost made Harry laugh, but he was feeling too weak to even crack a smile.

'Alright, this mojo thing of yours is really starting to freak me out,' Ron muttered as Harry picked up a chunk of chocolate and stuffed it into his mouth.  'And now _Malfoy _can do it, too?'

Harry nearly choked.

'How did you know about that?' he spluttered.  Ron grinned awkwardly.

'You talk in your sleep,' he explained.  'How may times have I told you that these five years?  Anyway, we could tell that Malfoy was there.  That's why Dumbledore didn't ask how you knew where he was.'  Once Ron had fallen silent and Harry closed his mouth because he couldn't think of anything to say, Harry finished eating his chocolate.  Hermione was just handing him the goblet of Sleeping Potion when the door burst open.

There was Albus Dumbledore, standing in the doorway.  He walked into the dormitory and Harry, Ron, and Hermione all saw a stretcher trailing behind him, which held a limp figure.  Malfoy.

Malfoy was lifted off the stretcher and set down on the bed next to Harry's.

_Damn, Malfoy, _thought Harry, _you look like you got hit by a train._

No answer.

_Oh, well, maybe he's mad at me and Hermione for ignoring him…_

He sighed and took the goblet of smoking purple potion.  

He had just lifted it to his lips when a weary voice echoed in his ears.

_I wouldn't drink that if I were you, Potter._

Harry lowered the cup.

_Oh, so _now _you're speaking to me?  _he thought irritably.  _How convenient._

_Give me a break, _Malfoy replied.  _Poor old me, lying on the cold, hard ground for about a day before anyone decided to come and look for me_._  Hey, I've got to admit, Pansy's probably pretty worried about me, which will add a bonus for when I get back to my dorm, and yeah, you did save me from certain fate.  I guess you're no longer in my debt…_

_Shut it, _Harry snapped._  Now if you don't mind, I'm going in for a _dreamless _sleep._

_Fine, have it your way._

Malfoy finally opened his eyes.  Harry glared at him.

'What?' said Malfoy.  Harry rolled his eyes and nodded pointedly at Ron and Hermione, who were watching them curiously.

'Oh, right,' he said, catching on.  'Er, Potter, I hate your guts—'

'Cut the crap, Malfoy,' Ron interrupted loudly, 'and drop the act.  Okay, so you two are friends now, so what?  Yeah, we could kind of tell, when you saved him from being reduced to nothing but pulp.'

Harry and Draco stared at him in amazement.

'Right, well, I'm going to sleep now,' said Harry, breaking the awkward silence.  He reached for the silver goblet once more.

'Didn't I say _not_ to drink that?' said Malfoy.

Harry ignored him, tilting his head back and swallowing the sweet liquid.  He vaguely heard Malfoy screaming at him, 'Don't, Harry!  Harry, _no_!'  The back of his throat tingled strangely, and he coughed.  Then, without warning, his eyelids were forced to close and he fell into a heavy sleep.  It wasn't the warm, sleepy feeling he remembered, either.

*******

Draco watched Harry uneasily as Harry slumped against his pillows, dropping the silver goblet to the floor with a clatter.  Draco glanced at Ron and Hermione, who were looking at him strangely.

'I told him not to,' he said softly, 'I'm sorry.'

'What's that supposed to mean?' Ron asked sharply.

Draco lowered his gaze.

'That wasn't just any Sleeping Potion,' he murmured to his hands, 'It wasn't really a Sleeping Potion, anyway.'  Still not looking up, he took a shuddering breath so he could have the strength to continue.  'That,' he said slowly, 'was Draught of the Living Death.'

********

**A/N:  AAHAA!  It's a cliff-hanger!  Don't ya just _love_ em?  I know, you're all probably about to kill me, and if you aren't because you think this fic totally _sucks_, that's okay, too.  You probably think I'm being really mean to Harry, don't you?  Doesn't the poor guy have enough to deal with without ending up as Malfoy's friend?  Heh, heh, just joking.  But in any case, please don't chuck rotten veggies at me…EEEEK!!! *runs and hides behind Crissy, who blinks confusedly as a large apple that resembles a tomato, or maybe it's a tomato that's supposed to be an apple (sorry, inside joke—OUCH!  Crissy just hit me) hits her full in the face while I laugh hysterically, narrowly avoiding being smacked by her.*  Again, I'd like to thank Crissy for her help with this chapter. (I never would have found out about all that telepathy stuff without her!) And as she would say:   "Bum, bum, buuuuuuuuuum…" Hey, I just realised something—without noticing it, I made Alex almost just like me!  Huh, go figure…**__


	5. A Restless Sleep

Silent Tears 

Part V:

A Restless Sleep 

Ron's and Hermione's jaws dropped.  Hermione glanced from Harry's sleeping figure and back to Malfoy.  Ron simply made a strange, strangled noise, apparently lost for words.

'How do you know that for sure?' he spluttered at last, finally finding his voice.

'I would know,' Malfoy replied softly, not looking up, and Hermione thought she heard a touch of bitterness in his flat voice.  'My father used to use it on me all the time…when I was younger.'

The two friends just stared.

'There is a counter potion,' he went on, finally facing Ron and Hermione, despite the pain that his eyes filled at the recollection of his father holding him down and forcing the burning liquid down his throat. 'It takes a while to kick in, though, so he could be stuck here all weekend…'

Ron suddenly scowled.  'Why didn't you stop him then?  You knew what it was!'

'Didn't you hear me, Weasley?' Malfoy retorted, his voice hard again, all of the friendliness and concern that had been there gone, replaced by irritation.  'I though, you know, with those _huge _ears of yours, you'd catch on that I was telling four-eyes over there not to drink it!'  

Ron was about to snap back when Hermione, who had been staring blankly ahead, whispered, 'Draco, you did say there's a counter potion, didn't you?'

He nodded, surprised that she had called him by his first name.  Nobody, not even the teachers, had ever done that, except his parents.

'Well, then all we've got to do is tell Madam Pomfrey and she'll make it.'

'Come off it,' Ron said weakly.  'D'you really think she'd believe that?'

But at that precise moment, the nurse hurried into the room.

'Did he drink it?' she asked worriedly.  When Ron, Hermione, and Draco nodded, her face paled, and her lips thinned.

'Oh, I can't believe this,' she muttered, wringing her hands absently.  'The two Sleeping Potions were right next to each other!  _Why _didn't I make sure I had the right one?'

The three teenagers didn't  know what to say.  It surprised them to see their normally calm nurse so distressed.

'I must go to the Headmaster at once,' she said, more to herself than everyone else, walking to the door.  But just then, who should it be but Dumbledore walked right into the room.  

'Poppy, I need to speak to Mr Malfoy and Mr Potter at once, if you don't mind,' he said after closing the door. 

'Professor,' Draco began, 'Potter has already taken his Sleeping Potion, but—'

'Headmaster!' Madam Pomfrey interrupted, losing control completely.  'The most terrible thing has happened!  I—I—' she struggled for words, 'I gave him Draught of the Living Death instead of a Sleeping Potion!'

Dumbledore was staring at her with his intent, non-wavering gaze.

'Not to worry, Poppy,' he said calmly.  'I'm sure we could have Professor Snape make the counter potion for him.'  Seeing the miserable expression on everyone's faces, he added, 'Harry is in no immediate danger.  On the contrary, I believe this will be quite a restful experience for him.  The poor boy has had so many hardships that this could be a favour.  Please calm yourself, Poppy, we all make mistakes.'  His eyes twinkled in the direction of Hermione, Ron, and Draco.  'And you three would do well not to tell him that I referred to him as a poor boy when he wakes.'  Sighing, he turned on his heal and headed for the door.  'Well, I must go and find Severus.'  He left.

Madam Pomfrey glanced around nervously, then said to Draco, 'Well, then, Malfoy, I'll just take this back now and get the other one.'  He handed her the goblet, and she carried it back to her office.

For a very long time, no one said a word.  The only sound that could be heard was the peaceful, even sound of breathing as Harry slept.  It would have been a peaceful scene if only the probability of death (no matter what Dumbledore said to them) wasn't hanging over them.  

A few moments later, Madam Pomfrey came out again, this time with a golden goblet that wasn't smoking.  With a grim glance at Harry's comatose figure, she passed Draco the goblet, then walked back to her office without a word to any of them.  Several minutes passed before Malfoy spoke.

'Well, thanks to Potter, I now have no idea what Dumbledore wanted me for,' he muttered.

Ron was astonished.

'Oh, come off it!' he exploded, glaring at him.  'My best friend is lying there, practically dead, and all you can think about is what some ancient old bloke in a beard has to say to you?' He continued to scowl in disgust.  'I'm beginning to wonder why he's forgiven you for all that you've done to him.'

'Ron,' Hermione said quietly, finally drawing her gaze from Harry's body. 'Please be more sensible.  Draco's had it tough, look at his father.  You can't blame him for being mad at the world.  I think it's about time he got a good friend.'

 'Gee, I feel so loved.  The madness never stops around here, does it?  Well, I'll just leave you two at this happy little discussion, shall I?  Good night.'  Malfoy stopped, picked up his goblet, and lifted it to his mouth.

'Wait a second, Draco,' said Hermione.  She locked his gaze with her big brown eyes.  'Thank you for trying.'  Draco shrugged and gulped down the potion.  Instantly, he was carried off to sleep.  

Hermione watched as he fell back onto his pillows, matching the smooth rhythm of Harry's breathing with his own.  Ron made several attempts to say something, but refrained from speaking.

'Well,' he said at last. 'There's no point in staying here all night, it'll probably take a while to get that counter potion made…C'mon.'  He gently took Hermione's hand and tried to pull her form her chair, but she wouldn't budge.

'You go ahead,' she said quietly, 'I'll be there in a minute.'  Ron stared at her for a while, shrugged, and walked out the door.

Once she was sure he was gone, Hermione stood up, walked around Harry's bed, and stood next to Draco's.  After looking at him for about a minute, she bent over him and whispered in his ear.

'Good night, Draco,' she said softly, and kissed him on the cheek.  Quickly straightening up, she sighed at the two peaceful figures and strode out the ward.

*******

Hermione descended down the stairs, but her mind was still upstairs with Harry and Draco.  She loved and admired Harry, but somehow couldn't think of him as anymore than a friend.  She would gladly accept if he asked her to be with him, but there was something keeping her away from that kind on relationship that she couldn't figure out.

Then there was Draco.  Her heart ached for him.  He had had such a terrible childhood, and Ron wasn't helping matters much…

'Password?' said a voice.

Hermione blinked.  Her feet had carried her all the way to the Fat Lady without her even realising it.

'Err—turnabulbs,' she stammered.  The Fat Lady swung forward to admit her into the common room.  Ron was standing there, waiting for her.  He looked extremely nervous about something.

'Hey,' he said softly.  Seeing the expression on her face, he added, 'You alright?'  Hermione nodded.   'He'll be fine,' he whispered to her in her ear, putting his arm around her shoulders.  'We can go and see him again in the morning.'  She nodded again, and, stepping from Ron's comforting embrace, headed for the girls' dorms.  Ron sighed, watching after her, and climbed the stairs to the boy's dorms.

*******

Hours later, Hermione lay awake, her mind not giving her rest from her thoughts of Harry and Draco.  It just didn't seem fair…Ron was treating him so badly…

********

 In the boy's dormitories, Ron wasn't sleeping either.  His heart was torn.  Everything had to happen to Harry.  The Boy Who Lived had too much to deal with.  Maybe Dumbledore was right that he deserved this sleep.

Ron liked Alex a lot, and was pretty sure that she liked him, too.  But then there was Hermione.  There was something special about her that he couldn't place.  Somewhere behind that mask of a bossy know-it-all was an imaginative, sweet girl of many worlds.  But he could tell that she liked Harry.  It was odd.  They just seemed to go together.  Harry and Hermione.  Hermione and Harry.  They even looked something alike.  No one ever thought of Ron and Hermione or Hermione and Ron.  He rolled over in bed, feeling very out of place in the calm atmosphere of his dorm.  He sighed and closed his eyes.

*********

'Well, Wormtail, have you yet seen the boy?'

'Why, y-yes, My Lord.'

There was a sudden hiss.

'Didn't I tell you to kill him on sight?'

The second voice whimpered.

'I-I don't recall—' 

'Liar.  You knew perfectly well that I wanted you to kill him.  You knew perfectly well that it would have saved us so much time…and no one else would have to die…'

'My apologies, My Lord….It was just that, the other boy was with him, and he almost Stunned me—'

'Fool!  You could have killed them both and been done with it!'

There was silence.  Then, suddenly, a spell was cast.

'_Crucio!'_

Screams of pain rang through his head…he couldn't wake up, and he needed it to stop—

Draco sat up.  He was breathing hard and fast, looking wildly around into the dark corners, and it was awhile before he realized that he was safe in the hospital wing.  Where had those voices come from? 

He glanced out the window.  The silvery moonlight contrasted strongly with midnight-black sky, pouring into the room, striking eerie shadows on the walls.  He supposed that the Sleeping Potion must have worn off a while ago so he could have heard the voices….

He shivered and glanced at Harry.  How could he put up with all this?

Draco sighed and rubbed his eyes.  The weird thing was that before he had really fallen asleep, he vaguely remembered someone whispering in his ear and kissing him on the cheek.  But that was absurd.  No one had ever so much as hugged him in his life.  Assuming this was just some trick that the potion had played on him, he stood up and stared around the nearly pitch black room.

'Damn that potion wore off fast…oh, shit, my arm HURTS!'  His arm had fallen asleep, and he just now felt the blood rush back to his fingers, making them tingle with a prickling sensation.  He continued talking to himself as he pulled on a fresh robe, the ones that Madam Pomfrey had laid out the night before.  He sat down again on his bed and gazed out the window to the moonlit forest below.

For some odd reason, he suddenly desperately needed fresh air.  He felt like he was suffocating.  Running to the nearest window, he tried to haul it open, but to no prevail.  He looked around wildly, his body drenched with sweat.  Draco began to gasp for air, his bloodshot eyes widening, then in a flurry of desperation, he drew up all his strength and sent his fist flying through the window.  Thrusting his head out, he gulped in the cool night air.  Dimly aware of the blood flowing freely down his arm, he pulled himself out onto the windowsill.  Yanking his wand out of his robes, he concentrated on an image of his shiny new RapidFire3000 (the newest broom he had managed to con out of his father—Harry's Firebolt was nothing in comparison).

'_Accio RapidFire3000!'_ he shouted into the night.  After a few minutes, the broom zoomed up next to him.  The handle was shiny black with the words 'RapidFire3000' written on the side in bright orange flame lettering.  He stood for a while, admiring its unsurpassable beauty by the silvery-white glow of the moon before mounting it and speeding over the Forbidden Forest.  Bringing the broom to a half-halt, he lazily meandered by the border.  

Suddenly, he caught a silver flash out of the corner of his eye.  Dropping quietly to the ground, he crept silently closer to the two shadowy figures standing a few yards away, just close enough to he could distinguish their conversation, and hid behind a wide oak tree.

'Well, Wormtail, have you yet seen the boy?'

'Why, y-yes, My Lord.'

There was a sudden hiss.  Draco subconsciously backed up into a tree.  _The voices!_ he thought wildly.  _The voices I heard in my dream! _

'Didn't I tell you to kill him on sight?'

The second voice whimpered.

'I-I don't recall—' 

'Liar.  You knew perfectly well that I wanted you to kill him.  You knew perfectly well that it would have saved us so much time…and no one else would have to die…'

'My apologies, My Lord….It was just that, the other boy was with him, and he almost Stunned me—'

'Fool!  You could have killed them both and been done with it!'

There was silence.  Then, suddenly, an incantation split the still silence of the dark night.

'_Crucio!'_

The screams that could be heard shattered the silent night air like breaking glass.  Draco gasped and dropped his broomstick on a pile of leaves with a loud thump.  Instantly, the screaming stopped.  The one man had dropped the curse, and was now walking towards Draco.  The world began to swim before his eyes and he suddenly felt nauseated.  He wanted so badly to open his eyes and realise that this was just a dream…he began to keel over backwards…then he snapped out of it.  _Think what I would normally do…_The tall man came to a halt right in front of him.  Draco couldn't see his face, but could make out two glittering red eyes narrowed at him from the depths of a hood.  

'Aren't you Malfoy's boy?' he asked in a soft voice.

'Err, yeah,' Draco answered from the ground.  There was no mistakening this cold voice.  It was, without a doubt, Lord Voldemort, and his minion Wormtail.  He worked his face into his best grin.  'And I know who you are.  You're that Voldemort dude.  Father's told me all about you.'

Voldemort's eyes flashed at being referred to as, 'that Voldemort dude.'  Wormtail wrinkled his nose in annoyance and mumbled to himself, 'Obnoxious, isn't he?'

Draco glared at him, but Voldemort spoke before he could say anything.

'What are you doing out here so late, Draco?  Shouldn't you be asleep?'

'Let's just say Potter and I got into a brutal fist-fight, knocked each other senseless, and ended up in the hospital wing.  I'm just out for a little walk while Potter sleeps off the uppercut I gave him…'  Voldemort began to get an impatient look, so Draco added, 'What are _you _doing out here?  Shouldn't you be off terrorizing some Muggles or something?'

Voldemort lapsed into a thoughtful silence, seemingly pondering the question.

'I suppose I can trust you, young Malfoy,' he said lazily.  'Yes, why not?'  He glared at Wormtail before continuing, 'We've used Polyjuice Potion to take a girl as a hostage, so I guess you could say we've got Potter in the palm of our hands…'  He chuckled evilly from what could only be the wonder of finally killing Harry Potter.  Draco shuddered.  'Well, Draco,' he said, 'best get back to the hospital wing on that admirable broom of yours.'

Draco had already started walking away when the Dark Lord's voice carried over to him.

'And you would do well to hold your tongue about what I told you.  Lord Voldemort always has ways of tracking down those who betray him.'

Draco turned.  'Did you realise that you've started talking in the third person?' he asked with innocence mixed with sarcasm.

'_Go!_' Voldemort hissed, and Draco scurried away, not wanting to be the next target of the Crucatious Curse.

*******

Back in the hospital wing, Draco quickly landed, Banishing his RapidFire3000 back to his dorm.  He kept out his wand and fixed the damaged window, then quietly changed back into his pyjamas and crept back into bed.  Glancing down at his right arm, he was fully aware for the first time that he was bleeding.  Or at least he was.  The blood was clotting and some had even dried.  He drew a shaking breath and held his head in his hands.  Voldemort was on the school grounds.  What was he supposed to do now?  Harry was practically dead, and Draco was sure that telepathy wouldn't work in this state.  Ron and Hermione wouldn't believe him, and certainly not Dumbledore, knowing that he knew his father was a Death Eater.  He groaned impatiently, almost slamming himself down against his pillows, willing sleep to claim him, but it wouldn't come; it was a faraway country that he couldn't touch, no matter how hard he tried.  Giving up, Draco sat up and reached for his goblet of unfinished Sleeping Potion and swallowed it down.  Waves of sleep washed over him at last, and he fell asleep.

*******

There was daylight when Draco awoke.  His stomach rumbled, so he assumed it was past lunchtime.  He gave a start when he saw Ron, Hermione, Professor Dumbledore, Snape, and Madam Pomfrey standing there.  Draco noticed that Snape was holding a beaker full of a sick sort of yellow liquid.  Hermione held Harry's hand as Snape handed the beaker to Madam Pomfrey.  Ron looked as if he was about to be sick, and the pallor of his face only supported that notion.  Draco assumed the substance in the beaker was the counter potion.  They all watched uneasily as the nurse poured it down Harry's throat, making him cough and splutter in his sleep.  She straightened up and glanced at Dumbledore, who looked at Ron, Draco, and Hermione.

'How long will it take to take effect?' Hermione asked timidly.  Dumbledore sighed.

'As to that, Miss Granger, we can only guess,' he said.  'A few hours, maybe, but perhaps even many days.'  

Hermione gave a small squeak of protest.  Ron glanced at Malfoy, who looked as if he had been sucking on a lemon.

'You may stay with him overnight, in case he wakes,' Dumbledore continued, 'but if he hasn't by morning, then I must insist that you return to your dormitories.'  He shifted his gaze from one worried face to another, giving them a reassuring smile, and left the room, Snape right behind him.

Silence as thick as a fog settled around them.  Madam Pomfrey walked back to her office, seemingly distressed.  Soon Draco broke the silence.

'Well, that's it, then, isn't it?' he said.  Hermione and Ron glanced at him.

'Malfoy—' Ron began warningly.

'No, he's right, Ron,' Hermione interrupted.  Her eyes rested on Draco.  'All we can do now is wait.'

And so they waited.  They didn't talk at all.  Madam Pomfrey brought out lunch trays, but only Malfoy ate all of his.  Ron could barely swallow, and Hermione wouldn't eat a bite.

******

Hours later, Ron and Draco fell asleep.  Hermione couldn't let go of Harry's hand.  Several times, his eyelids fluttered open, but only to close again.  He made a few noises as if to wake, but slept on.  

Hermione was beginning to lose hope.  _It's over, _she thought, _What if Snape's potion was the wrong one?  What if it doesn't work?  What if was really poison?  What if—_

A hand suddenly ran through her hair, and she sat bolt upright.  She had fallen asleep, holding Harry's hand, her head on the bed next to him.  Smiling up at her, his vivid emerald eyes tired yet open, was Harry.  She smiled back.

'Hey,' he whispered weakly.  Hermione just smiled, though scolding herself inside forever thinking of losing him to a Sleeping Potion.

'Are you okay?' she whispered back.

'Yeah, but I seem to have no feeling in my fingers.'

'Oh!  Sorry…'  She let go of the death grip she had on his hand at last.

'Thanks.'  His gaze travelled over to Ron, who was asleep in his chair, his mouth half-open, then to Draco, who lay sleeping on the bed next to Harry's.

'I'm glad to see I'm still popular,' he commented.  He started to sit up, but slumped back again, his hand on his head.

'God, my head hurts like hell,' he moaned.  'And what kind of sleeping potion was that?  It hit me like a brick….'

Hermione's smile faltered.

'Oh,' she said again, and explained all about the Draught of the Living Death.

'…and you should've seen the look on Madam Pomfrey's face when she found out!  I know this sounds like Ron talking, but she was positively freaked!  It was most unlike her…'

Harry grinned.  'Well, it could be that time of month again,' he said slyly, 'if you know what I mean…'

'Harry!' Hermione said indignantly, punching his arm, 'That's not funny!'

Harry snorted with laughter, wincing slightly.

'Damn, girl, you've got quite an arm there.'

'Watch it, Potter, or it'll be going for your face next,' she threatened playfully.

'Okay, okay,' he said, throwing up his hands.  "I'm injured, I'm ill…be careful with the sick one, alright?"  Then Harry glanced at her thoughtfully.  'How about you get some more sleep?  I could use some too, as a matter of fact….'

'You've been sleeping all weekend!'

'Yeah, but it wasn't relaxing at all.  And you look terrible.'

'Oh, thanks.'

He grinned again.  'Just doing my job.'  Ron suddenly gave a loud snore, turned his head, and slept on.  'C'mon,' Harry whispered, 'let's go to sleep before we wake someone.'

'Too late…'  came a muffled voice from half way across the room.  

Harry and Hermione looked over at Draco, who had his head buried in his pillow, obviously trying to drown out their voices.  Sitting up, he added, 'And I'm sorry to break up the snogging session.'

'We weren't—snogging,' Harry muttered.  Draco snorted.

_Hey, Potter, is Granger listening?_

_No, I don't think so…let me check…Hermione?_

No response.

_I've got to tell you something._

_What?_

_Well, last night my sleeping potion wore off, and I went for a *ahem* stroll by the forbidden forest…_

_What are you trying to get at, Malfoy?_

_I'm getting to that.  Well, as strange as this sounds, Voldemort was on school grounds.  He was with Rat Boy…_

_Are you _sure _the sleeping potion wore off?_

Suddenly Draco held up his unhealed arm that he had smashed through the window the night before.

'Does _this_ look like a dream to you, Potter?'  His sudden out burst had startled Hermione, who hadn't been listening to their telepathic conversation, to topple off Harry's bed in alarm, and woke up Ron.  Malfoy had kept his arm under the blankets so no one could see the large cuts and clotted blood until now.  Ron turned a bit green.

'What in bloody hell…?' he muttered weakly, staring from Malfoy's fixed expression to his raised fist.  

'What happened to you?' Hermione asked, standing back up.

For the first time in a while, the three witnessed Malfoy blush a brilliant shade of pink.  'I got a little frustrated with the window,' he muttered.

Harry nodded.  _Okay, so what happened?_

_Well, Voldemort's got a plan to kill you…_

_Tell me something I _don't _know.'_

_No, it's got something to do with a girl._

_I told you, I already know.  Like you said before, I see things, you hear things.  And I suppose you heard Voldemort and Pettigrew talking?_

_Yeah…and Voldemort was yelling at him to have killed you on sight instead._

Harry made a funny noise that sounded like a strangled hiccup.

'Oh, I really shouldn't have said that,' Malfoy said aloud.  

'It does explain a lot, though,' Harry replied thoughtfully.  'I guess Dumbledore was right when he said I would actually be glad I saved his life…and when he told me to run…'

'Huh?' Draco and Ron said confusedly.

Harry shook his head.  'I'll explain later.'

Ron shrugged and Draco stared at Harry, who could feel his face burning.

'But—' Draco began.

'Later.'

Hermione nodded, and bit her lip.

Suddenly the door opened, and in stepped Dumbledore.

**********

**A/N:  Pathetic, isn't it??  Well, at least I tried…And thank you, Crissy, for all your help!  *tearsnifftear*  I couldn't have done it without you!   ****J**


	6. The New Prophecy

Silent Tears

Part VI:

New Prophecy 

Dumbledore didn't seem at all surprised to see them all awake, or that Hermione was pulling herself back onto Harry's bed.  On the contrary, he regarded them with a nod, and walked swiftly past them to Madam Pomfrey's office.  Her door shut with a snap after him.  From behind it they could hear the sounds of Dumbledore rousing Madam Pomfrey, and the whispered conversation that they were holding within minutes.  Draco and Harry exchanged confused glances, Ron's and Hermione's faces bewildered.  The nurse asked what sounded like a question, from the tone of her voice, and Dumbledore's deeper voice, replying grimly.  Then there was silence, in which Harry's and Draco's glances turned tense.  Suddenly the door opened, and Madam Pomfrey came into the room, the Headmaster following her.  She glanced apprehensively around at them before raising her wand.

"I'm very sorry, all of you," she said grimly.  "_Sonoris!"_

A golden, powdery substance flew from her wand and drifted slowly over the companions.

"I know what this is," Ron said suddenly, as the glittering powder settled over them.

"Pixie dust?"  Draco suggested.

"No, it's Sleeping Powder…" But he never finished his sentence.  The last thought in everyone's mind before they fell asleep was, _Oh, no, not again._

********

The first thing Harry saw when he woke up was glittering sunlight.  He sat up so quickly that it made his head spin.  It suddenly occurred to him that his scar had been burning.  Running a finger over it, he thought, _Maybe there _was _truth in what Draco said last night…_His eyes trailed over to the three limp figures:  Malfoy, on one bed, Ron on another, and Hermoine on the next.  Harry's thoughts reeled.  _Why?  What just happened?  Did he hear Malfoy and me?  _Luckily, he didn't hear Draco respond to his ponderings.

He suddenly understood Draco's desperate need for air the previous night, for this was overcoming him as well.  His breath was catching in his throat—he needed air—

Harry scrambled out of bed and dashed to the window.  Eyes blurred with sweat, he felt for his wand on the table.

"_Alohomora!_" he gasped, but the window didn't budge.  In a crazed desperation for cold air, he rammed his fist at the glass, just as Draco had done the night before, achieving nothing but excruciating pain in his right hand, spreading rapidly all the way up his arm when—

The feeling vanished as soon as it came.  Utterly bewildered, Harry ran a hand over his forehead, and it came back dry.  For a while, he was thoughtful, and then he raised his wand again and pointed it at the window.

_"Sarin krath karon,_" he whispered, and the window let off a pinkish glow.  "That explains it," he muttered, "Enchanted."

"What's enchanted?" asked a sleepy but curious voice from the corner.  Hermione was awake.    

"The window," Harry answered, gesturing at the glowing glass.  "I'm guessing they all are."

"But why would someone enchant the windows?"  Hermione wondered.  Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"Well…" he began uneasily.  He glanced over at Malfoy.  "Remember last night when Malfoy's hand was all bloody?"

"Yeah…" Hermione said slowly.

"He told me that he saw Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest last night."

There was a stunned silence.  Hermione glanced at him worriedly.

"I'm sure he didn't do anything to Draco," she assured him half-heartedly.

"No, the reason why these windows are enchanted is to make sure no one can get in or out."  Harry bit his lip and glanced at her.

"What's bothering me most," he murmured,  "is that I think Dumbledore can read my mind."

 Hermione stared.

"No—he wouldn't," she said.  "Would he?"

Harry didn't answer.  Instead, he turned and stared out the window at the rising sun.

"Harry?"

He turned to look at her.  "Yeah?"

Up close, in the early-morning light, Hermione thought he looked rather pale.  It suddenly struck her how tall he was.

"Oh, Harry," she said softly, wrapping her arms around his waist.  Harry hugged her back.  It was a very strange feeling, as if an electric shock went through them, something that neither of them could place.  Hermione lifted up her head to look into his eyes.  Harry closed them and slowly leaned forward—

"Oh, how cute."  Malfoy's voice came floating over to them as if from a long way off.  Harry and Hermione sprang apart.  Malfoy was eyeing them sleepily.  Ron was sitting up, his eyes sparkling mischievously, making odd, gagging noises from behind his hand.

"How long have you been watching?"  Harry almost shouted indignantly.  Malfoy grinned.

"Oh, about ten minutes," he drawled.  "You two practically went off to an entirely different planet."

Harry felt his face burn.  Glancing over at Ron, he saw that he had stopped laughing.  He was now staring at Harry and Hermione as if in a completely different light than before.

"What?" said Harry, seeing Ron's mouth go slack as he looked from one to another. 

"Huh?  Oh—I—was—just—wondering—why the window's pink," he said quickly, snapping his mouth shut.

"Oh, yeah," Harry said.  He turned around.  "_Finete Incantantem._"  The glowing ceased at once.

"Where'd you learn that?" asked Hermione in amazement.  Harry shrugged.

"I remember reading it somewhere.  Maybe just some book from the library.  I didn't really expect it to work, anyway."

Ron made an impatient noise.  "You still haven't answered my question," he fumed.

"There was some kind of enchantment on it," Harry told him apologetically.  "The glowing was just a spell I put on it to see why it wouldn't break."

"But why would someone put an enchantment on a window?"

"Maybe there's something outside they don't want to get in," Harry said, without thinking.  He immediately regretted it, because the room went very still.

Malfoy shook his silvery blonde hair out of his eyes, stood up, and walked towards the door, ignoring the wobbly feeling in his legs.  Just as he was about to open it to leave, it swung open.  Seeing Dumbledore standing there with his wand extended, Draco instinctively ducked, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione covered their faces, expecting sleeping powder to shoot out at any moment.

Seeing this, Dumbledore chuckled and lowered his wand.  Looking around at the four in the room, he pocketed his wand.

"I need to speak to Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy, alone," he said, and raised an eyebrow at Hermione and Ron, who immediately got the hint, and stood up to leave.

Once they had left, Dumbledore led Draco back to his bed and sat him down.  He brandished his wand and mumbled a few words.  Instantly, a large armchair appeared right behind him out of nowhere, and he plopped himself down.  It was a very beautiful, rich purple, strands of silver and gold woven into the soft fabric.  It appeared to be so delightfully comfortable that Harry wondered why Dumbledore didn't sink right through the squashy cushion and out of sight.

"It has come to my attention," he started, his blue eyes once again sparkling, "that you two have formed a, shall we say, _secret_ connection."

Harry and Draco exchanged confused glances before Dumbledore continued; Draco was absolutely sure their Headmaster had lost it completely. 

"You are not alone.  Others in this school possess similar telepathic bonds—but yours is most unusual, it's stronger than most…and normally, the link is not formed between two who have…let's just say, different points of view."

Both Harry's and Draco's jaws hit the floor.  _How does he know?_ Draco asked telepathically.

_No idea…who else do you think has the link?_

"Boys, boys, feel free to talk out loud, you don't need to use your telepathy right now!"  Dumbledore insisted, his fingers templed under his chin.

"You can hear us?  Are you linked, too?" asked Harry.

"No, no.  It takes very powerful Dark magic to be able to bridge an already formed connection.  If I could hear you, believe me, you would feel it."

"Then how do you know?" Draco asked.

"I have my ways," Dumbledore said simply, smiling and winking.

Deciding it was no use to try to get a straight answer out of his Headmaster, Harry asked the next thing on his mind.

"Who else has a mind link?  You said there were others who had one."

Dumbledore smiled again.

"I'm not really supposed to say, but I think they would be glad to help you out," Dumbledore answered with another wink.  He bent closer to whisper in their ears.  Without another word, he swept out of the ward, leaving the boys to ponder, Harry with his mouth open wide, turning to Draco, who looked disgusted.

"The _Weasleys_?" he said incredulously, but the door shut with a snap.   "Those perverted, red-haired, dirt poor _twins_?"

Harry spluttered indignantly.

"Sorry," Draco said, checking himself.  "Anyway, you can forget that, they wouldn't help me if their lives depended on it."

"I wouldn't doubt that," Harry sniggered, "considering you insult them even when they aren't around."

Draco sighed and began pulling on his robes.

Harry smiled, standing up and brushing his jet-black hair out of his eyes.  

"Yeah, but they'll do it for me."

*******

Harry and Draco were standing in the hall, just outside an abandoned classroom.  Harry was holding a tattered piece of old parchment with his wand raised above it.

"_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_," he said, tapping it.  Instantly, spidery green ink spiralled over the surface, transforming into some sort of map with tiny dots moving over the flat paper.

"Exactly how can you be solemnly up to no good?" Malfoy asked with innocent curiosity.  Harry ignored him and examined the map.  Just as he had suspected, the twins were sneaking out of Potions class, through one of their newly discovered secret passages, which ended up in this hallway.  He pushed Draco into the empty classroom and waited for the twins to emerge.

"Oi, Fred, look, it's Harry!" George exclaimed upon seeing him.

"Skipping class, we've taught him well!" Fred interrupted.

Harry rolled his eyes and pushed the two towards the room that Draco was standing in.  "I need your help.  I figured you'd be skipping Potions—"

"And you figured correctly, young grasshopper," George said solemnly.

"—so I—err, we—were just wondering if—"

George was about to say something when he saw Draco standing behind Harry.  "Oi, Harry, watch out, there's a dangerous pasty shrimp standing behind you!"

Harry sweat dropped.

"What was that, Freckle Face?" Draco returned, his cheeks turning a light pink shade of anger.  Fred and George began to laugh.

"Shut up, or I'll shove my foot right up your—"

"Malfoy!"  Harry cut him short warningly, and Draco fell silent.

"Good job, Harry, you've got him trained like a lap dog!"  Fred congratulated him, and the twins roared with laughter again.

That was it.  Draco snapped.  He lunged forward, hi fist two inches from Fred or George's face (sorry, we can't tell which) when Harry grabbed the back of his robes and yanked him backwards.  Malfoy hit the floor with a dull thud.  His glare could have wilted flowers, and he continued swearing viciously at Harry in his head.

"Three against one…I like the odds!" George started.

"I say we have a go at it," Fred finished for him, rolling up his sleeves.

"No!" Harry shouted exasperatedly.  "Urg!  Me _and Malfoy_ need your help!"

"With our mind-link, err, problem…Dumbledore told us to come to you," Draco interrupted, his expression sour.  "And believe me, I'm not too happy about the arrangements either…"

It took a couple more insults, multiple attempts at fistfights, and several curses, but they finally got some info out of the twins.

"All right, all right…" George panted, wrenching his wrist out of Malfoy's grasp.  He glanced at Fred, who was being restrained by Harry from ripping Malfoy's throat out.  "Here's what you need to know."

"You need to trust each other, for a start," said Fred, eyeing Malfoy distrustfully.

"And make sure that you're careful—"

"Cuz almost anything that happens to one of you will happen to the other."

"Yeah, we _know_," said Draco impatiently.

After a while, Draco complained that this was boring, and spending over an hour in the company of two Weasleys was giving him a headache, so Harry and Draco left the twins, Draco departing for Transfiguration, and Harry to Divination.

*********

When Harry arrived in the dark, stuffy classroom, everyone turned and glanced at him nervously as he took his seat next to Ron.

"It is a pleasure to see you here at last, dear boy," a soft, misty voice whispered from the shadows.  "You are just in time for me to inform you of the signs that the smoke of incense yield to us."

Ron yawned widely as Professor Trelawney emerged from the shadows.  But Harry didn't see any of this.  He was just staring lazily into the glowing fire.

"Please come forward to receive your stick of incense, then use pages six hundred sixty-five to six hundred sixty-six in your text books."

Ron and Harry groaned as they stood up with the rest of the students and filed forward to the teacher.  Upon receiving their incense sticks, they returned to their seats and opened their copies of _Fortune Telling—Palmistry, Prophesies, and Much, Much More!_

"Smoke signs…" Harry muttered.  "What'll she make us do next?"

"She'll tell us we can see death omens in fish," Ron said sagely.

"In a matter of weeks, dear children, we will be concentrating on the omens which are shown to us through sea life," Professor Trelawney whispered excitedly, as if this was a huge treat.  Harry stared at Ron with disbelief mixed with amusement on his face as Ron shook with silent laughter, lighting his piece of incense with a shaking hand.

"Right," he said, dazedly consulting the pages devoted to smoke signs.  "This is weird…It doesn't resemble anything I've ever seen before…except for maybe—"

Harry snorted.  "It kind of looks like…err, a—a star?"

"Yeah, maybe…what's that mean?  '  Important days are ahead of you, plan them carefully.'  Oh, doesn't that make me special?"

"Riiiiiiiiiight…" Harry snorted again.  "Okay, so how about mine?"  He lit his with his wand as Ron had done.

"Okay," he said, glancing at the Divination teacher.  He wasn't much in the mood for a death prediction, no matter how fake it seemed.  "This could be…um…err…I want to say, maybe, a lion?"

But at that moment, the smoke shape changed.  It now resembled a heart—but with a jagged slash down the middle.  Startled, Harry glanced down at the page.

" 'You will gain the one you love, but only to lose another,'" he read.  Then he glanced up at Ron, who shrugged.

"That will be all for today, my dears," Professor Trelawney said softly.  "For homework, kindly read the rest of the chapter and write a paragraph on what you saw.  To be handed in tomorrow."

Harry sighed and Ron looked at his incense stick knowingly.  "I saw…ummm…"  He sweat dropped.  "I saw Harry dying…that'll make her happy…"

"Gee, thanks, I feel so loved," Harry grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"No problem, anytime."  Ron handed the incense stick to the professor, but as he and Harry were just turning to leave (everyone had already gone) Trelawney slumped over in her chair.  Ron raised his eyebrow and looked questioning at Harry.

Then a deep, haunting voice broke the silence, making both boys jump.  It was Professor Trelawney.

"_The Boy Who Lived has many admirers, young and old.  But only two shall openly express their love for him.  During this time of great importance, one will win his heart—_"

But Ron couldn't take it anymore.  He burst out laughing, breaking Professor Trelawney's trance and the spooky feeling that held Harry spellbound.

"Harry?  A date?  HA!"

Harry frowned.  "Hey, it's not _that_ unbelievable!" 

Ron just continued to laugh.  Harry stuck out his foot as Ron walked by, causing him to trip and land nose first on the floor.  He came back up, still laughing his head off, but holding his bloody nose that had broken in his fall.  He turned around and ran for the door, still shaking with uncontrollable laughter.

"Where are you going?" Harry hollered, though he was beginning to smile.

"Nurses…office!"  Ron managed to shout as he slit down the ladder, his gales of laughter echoing off the walls in the corridor.

Harry shook his head and glanced over his shoulder at the Divination teacher, who was half hidden in shadow, wearing a look of confusion and staring blankly into space.  Then he turned and followed Ron down the silvery ladder.

*******

Harry and Ron slumped down into armchairs in front of the fire after a Saturday night session of Quidditch practise.  Both were sopping wet and gasping for breath.  The thunderstorm that shrieked outside had been raging all week.

"Hey you two," said Hermione, smiling up at them from her Arithmancy homework.  Ron rolled his eyes at her, having given up on preaching to her about the meaning of a Saturday night and being a teenager:  _Don't do your homework _now_!_  She gave him a stern look that told him quite clearly not to even think about it.

"How did practise go?" she asked.

"Oh, Ron thought it would be funny to chuck the Bludgers at Alex, then had to fly for his life before she knocked him off his broomstick—"

"Yeah, well, you nearly fell off too when _Cho_ came out to watch," Ron shot back sourly.

Harry stopped in mid-yawn at this and turned bright red.

"I still never found out what she wanted," Harry grumbled.

"Oh, that reminds me," Hermione said, breaking up the conversation.  "There's something over there on the bulletin board that could help you two with your tangled love lives."  She jabbed her thumb at a group of sixth years clustered around a sign at the other end of the room near the portrait hole.  Harry and Ron got up and walked over to have a look.  The sign read:

Christmas Ball 25 December 

_Half past seven to midnight_

_Dress robes to be worn_

_Fourth year and up._

"Oh, no, not again," Harry and Ron groaned together.  

"Did she say help?" said Harry.  "Yeah, it'll help me make a total prat of myself again…"

"You don't know that," Ron said reasonably.

"I have the strange feeling we've said almost these same words last year…"

"You're not a champion this year, and Diggory's—" He stopped awkwardly.  "Sorry," he said quickly.  Harry shrugged.  

"Doesn't matter," he muttered.  "I might as well ask Cho out again."

He sighed and sat back down next to Hermione, leaving Ron standing there, staring at the sign.  Shaking his head, he returned to his friends.

*******

"Okay, team," Harry said next Saturday afternoon.  They were in the locker room, preparing for the second-to-the-last match of the school year:  Gryffindor versus Slytherin, of course.  If Gryffindor won, they would move up to second place.  If they lost, well, then, they were screwed.

"We beat them once, so we can beat them again.  True, this is the first tournament in a year, but we still have the right stuff."

A whistle blew from outside, signalling that it was time for the game to begin.  Harry swallowed nervously.  "Right.  You all know what's at stake…Let's go and show them what we've got!"  The team cheered.  Fred muttered to George, "He's almost as much of a fanatic as Oliver was."

"Shut up, you two," Harry groaned.

"Point taken," George said under his breath.

"Alright, let's go!"

If the team had been cheering, it was nothing in comparison to what the rest of the school was doing.  They were screaming themselves hoarse, their shouts echoing around the stadium, magnifying them by at least ten times.  The team's scarlet robes glowed in the afternoon sun like blood spattered over their pale forms.  The Slytherins', in green, shone brightly, making each of them look rather sallow, except for Malfoy, Hermione thought.

"Captains, shake hands," Madam Hooch instructed.  Harry moved forward to shake Montague's hand.  (Malfoy hadn't played long enough, nor was he good enough.)  ["Damn you," says Crissy.]  "Mount your brooms."  Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and all fifteen brooms rose into the air.

Harry had to admit that Malfoy had gotten better since the last time they had played each other.  He had seen Malfoy out on the pitch till late into the night, practising until he nearly fell asleep on his broom.  Harry had felt a pang of guilt while watching, his Quidditch skills had come so naturally and here was Malfoy, practising his ass off.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and pulled his broom up higher into the air above the rest.  His eyes scanned the field for the tiny Golden Snitch.  He heard roaring cheers from the Gryffindors and the jeers from the Slytherins.  Ten points for Gryffindor.  Zero for Slytherin.

Malfoy swore loudly in telepathy.  Harry smiled wryly.

Then, suddenly, he saw a flash of gold out of the corner of his eye.  He turned around and followed it.  Malfoy, unfortunately, was already on it.  Harry was closer, but Malfoy's broom was faster.  Malfoy was gaining on it, he was almost there—

WHOOSH.  Something scarlet zoomed in front of them, so quickly that neither Malfoy nor Harry saw it coming or what it was.  The figure skidded to a halt, hovering before them.  Grinning from ear to ear was Alex.

"Come on, Harry!" she yelled, "You can beat him!"

_She's right,_ he thought, _Just because his broom's better than mine doesn't mean he's better than me…_

_Oh, yes it does, _Malfoy shot back.

Remember that time in second year when you had the Snitch right on top of your head and you didn't even notice?

_Yeah, and remember that time you lost against Hufflepuff?_

_You've got some nerve—_

The crowd cheered again.  Gryffindor scored again, thanks to Alex, who was showing the Slytherins no mercy.  Her PhoenixFlyer400 was clearly doing its job.

"Gryffindor lead—one hundred sixty points to fifty," Lee Jordan shouted gleefully.

It suddenly occurred to Harry and Draco that they were floating in mid air, above the game, glaring at each other as they bickered silently.  Coming back to their senses, they shot away in opposite directions.

*******

"Oh, no, they're at it again," Hermione groaned to Ginny, seeing the two boys on their broomsticks and glaring at one another.

"At what?" Ginny asked absently, searching for Ron in the flurry of robes, balls, and broomsticks.

"Nothing…" Hermione was just about to reprimand them silently when their eyes widened in surprise, and they sped away.

Back up in the air, Malfoy was tailing Harry closely.  At every turn he blocked him, keeping Harry away from the Snitch.  

Harry got a sudden idea, a simple one that he nonetheless had forgotten about after his argument with Malfoy.  But he didn't dare think of it in the way Malfoy could hear; more felt it than used it as a replacement for speaking out loud.

_The Wronski Feint!  _

Pulling his broom down sharply, Harry turned it pointing downward in one of his especially steep dives.  Malfoy followed him, of course, but just as Harry pulled out of the dive, Malfoy, whose broom was faster and much less easily controlled, hit the grass with a thud.

The Slytherins groaned, but the Gryffindors laughed loudly.

Swearing loudly and clutching his head, Malfoy quickly zoomed back into the air.  

All at once, it began to rain.  The downpour soaked the players to the skin.  Harry quickly preformed the water-repelling charm on his glasses as Hermione had done, two years ago.

Malfoy couldn't see as well as he could, since he was getting water in his eyes.  Harry wasn't, so he could fly at top speed.  He dodged the Bludgers, Beaters, Quaffle, and Chasers, winding around and around for the Snitch—

"FOUL!" the Gryffindors screeched.  Harry whipped around to see Ron bent double, clutching his broomstick.  It appeared that a Slytherin Beater had thrown his club at him, knocking the wind out of him.

"Foul!" Madam Hooch yelled.

"And the Quaffle is taken by fourth year Alex Prelling of Gryffindor…"

After the penalty was made, the Gryffindors leapt into action.  But the Slytherins soon pulled up.

"Gryffindor still in the lead, one hundred eighty points to a hundred…"

The game was becoming increasingly brutal.  Fouls where made, penalties were given, a few more scores took place, but still, no sign of the Snitch.

The rain pounded harder and harder.  Harry swerved this way and that, searching for the tell-tale speck of gold.  Lightning flashed, thunder roared, but still, the game went on.

_There it is!  The Snitch!  _Harry thought wildly, in his excitement forgetting about Malfoy.  It was straight above him.  Streaking upward, he caught a flash of emerald out of the corner of his eye.  Malfoy was right behind him.  Harry went faster, desperate to get there before him.  The rain and wind stung his face and whistled in his ears.  He was getting closer, he was almost there…

It happened in a flash of lighting and a scream of thunder.  A figure came completely out of nowhere.  The crowd screeched and roared, then suddenly quieted at the sight.

A smaller, whiter fist than the one they had expected clenched the Snitch.  A figure in green robes instead of red.  Blonde instead of black hair.  Malfoy instead of Harry.  

Malfoy raised his fist in ecstatically triumphant pride…

Slytherin had won.

********

**A/N:  Yes, I know.  It's sad, isn't it?  OUCH!  Okay, okay, Crissy, give it a rest, Slytherin won…your hottie and all saved the day…alright, alright!  I'll shut up now!  Just put that knife back where it came from, okay?  Okay, okay, I'll say it:  Thank you, Crissy, for all your help, I couldn't have done it without you.  Happy?  Heeheehee.  Right, now that you've all had your fair share of action (if you can call that action), I will now proceed to the somewhat mushy crap that I suck at and very few people I know can put up with.  You have been warned.  Heheh, joking.  -****J **


	7. Expressed Love

A/N:  Fair warning, this chapter contains…a _little _bit of romance.  Nothing really serious yet, but it's on its way.  Hence the chapter title.  NO SLASH, I promise!  (can't stand it, myself)

Silent Tears

Part VII:

Expressed Love 

_Ha, ha!_

Malfoy's voice taunted Harry in his head next Friday afternoon in Potions class.  He was highly proud of himself for beating Gryffindor for the first time ever.  Harry was struggling to ignore him, but constantly lost his temper.  This was one of those times.

_Malfoy, _he repeated for the hundredth time, _would you just DROP IT?  You won a week ago, and you didn't see me gloating all month about beating you last time…_

But this is too much fun!  And we've never won against you before…or this well… 

_Give—it—a—rest!_

_All right, all right._

Malfoy turned his head to look at Harry, grinning widely.

_I will be so glad when we can't do this anymore, _Harry muttered.

_What?_

Fred and George told us it could wear off, remember?  Or that someone could…undo it.

And they also said that it would take really powerful Dark Magic to do that.

Oh, shut up.

********

The bell that rang ten minutes later couldn't have been more welcome, even though the schedule had been changed so it wasn't last lesson anymore, but the next to the last .

Rushing out of the classroom with everyone else, Ron, Harry and Hermione were the last ones out of the dungeon.  But in the throng, Hermione and Ron were swept away, leaving Harry by himself.   Harry scrambled around a corner so he wouldn't be late for Charms.

"Oof!" someone on the other side of him groaned as he smashed into her.  Their books and quills scattered everywhere.  [Yeah, I know its kind of cliché-ish, but every story's gotta have it.]

"Sorry," Harry muttered, picking his glasses up off the floor to see whom he had run into.

It was Cho. 

Harry felt his face burn dark red as he gathered up his things.

"Here, let me help you with that," he offered once he had finished.  He helped Cho pick up all her books and put them back into her bag.

"Thank you," she said.  They stood there and stared at each other for a long time.  Harry was still a head taller than her.

"You did a good job on Saturday," said Cho, "Even with that broom Malfoy's got."

"Thanks," Harry answered.

Cho clutched her books to her chest as she continued to stare into his eyes.  

"Do you want to go to the ball with me?" they asked each other.

It was lucky that the corridor was empty, because the gales of laughter that followed would have burst anyone's eardrums, breaking the tension between the two.

"Will you go with me?"  Cho asked again between giggles, her face red. 

"Sure," Harry choked.

"That's great," she answered, finally controlling herself.

"I'll see you then," said Harry.

"Bye."

And Harry walked away, feeling more elated than ever before, that some things were finally going his way.

********

"You're _joking_."

It was around nine o'clock in Gryffindor tower.  Ron and Hermione had finally gotten Harry to tell them why he had been so late for Charms, and why he spent the rest of the day with a dreamy expression on his face.

"Cho asked you _out_?"  Ron repeated disbelievingly.  

"Well, we sort of asked each other out," Harry explained, a look of sheer bliss in his eyes.

"Congratulations," Hermione said, somewhat stiffly.  Harry didn't even notice, and Ron was still gaping at Harry.

"What about you, Ron?"  Harry asked, "Are you going to ask Alex out?"

"Maybe…"  Ron answered mysteriously.

"Well, you better get a move on, 'cos she'll be taken pretty soon by the looks of it," he said, nodding at a group of boys all clustered around Alex.

"You're right."  And without another word, he got up from his armchair and marched over to Alex.

"I can't believe he just did that," Hermione muttered, staring at Ron as he approached the girl.  The other boys, of practically every year, were all eager for her to accept their invitations to the ball, with her stunning beauty and American accent.  Now they all scowled at Ron as he elbowed his way past them.

Harry and Hermione watched in amazement as Ron said something to Alex, causing her to open her mouth in surprise.  She replied uncertainly, and Ron shook his head as they glanced at Harry and Hermione.  Finally, Alex smiled and nodded at Ron, so he walked back to his friends triumphantly as the crowd dispersed, some shooting him looks of deepest loathing, others just disappointed.

"That went well," Ron sighed, plopping down in his chair.

"She said yes, then?"  Harry prodded.

"Oh, yeah," answered Ron.  "How could one resist my good looks?"

Harry snorted.

"So who're you going to ask, Hermione?" said Ron, ignoring Harry.

Hermione bit her lip as she stared from Harry to Ron.

"It's getting late," she murmured.  "I better go up to bed…"  She gathered up her things, Crookshanks at her heals, and slowly walked upstairs.

"It's only half past nine," said Ron, glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner.  "Wonder what's up with her?"

Harry shrugged.

*******

Hermione lay on her bed, sobbing hopelessly.  Crookshanks leapt up lightly on her bed next to her, nuzzling against her arm.

"It isn't fair, Crookshanks," she sobbed, sitting up and wiping tears from her eyes.  She scratched the cat behind his ears.  "He has a date to the ball!  They both do!  Viktor's not here, and I haven't seen him since…since…"

She dissolved again into tears of anguish, hoping against hope that some miracle would take place in her favour.

******

As the days went by, the cheer and spirit of Christmas settled over the school as thickly and surely as the snow falling outside.  The Christmas decorations went up, as splendid and beautiful as last year.  Around every corner, people could be seen asking one another out to the coming ball.  By the beginning of December, nearly everyone had a date.  Cho flashed Harry a big, genuine smile every time they passed in the halls.  His feelings flew as if on wings every time.  

Surprisingly, Parvati Patil, giggling madly, asked him, and her twin sister, Padma, asked Ron.  When they both replied that they already had dates, they looked astonished.  

But something happened about a week before vacation.  Harry was on his way to lunch from Transfiguration with Ron and Hermione when a voice called to him from down the corridor.

"Um, Harry?"

The three turned around.  It was Ginny.

"Yeah?"  Harry replied, careful to keep his voice soft.  Ginny had never looked this uncomfortable around him before, not since his second year.  But she had grown, and matured greatly where her emotions were concerned.  She was now nearly as tall as Ron, but still shorter than Harry.  Her cheekbones set off the delicate features of her face, from her small nose speckled with freckles to her slightly slanted brown eyes.  Her dark red hair was beautifully long and curled under at her chin and around her back like a curtain of fire.  She had a full, slender figure now, starting from her hips, up her waist, to her chest, forming the traditional hourglass shape.  Her beauty and charm were so winning that she had been asked by many boys to the ball, but declined all of their offers.  She was saving for someone very special to her.

"Will you go to the ball with me?"  Ginny whispered, blushing slightly.  Harry opened his mouth.  He would have said yes, but caught himself as he remembered he was going with Cho.  It was odd.  He had never expected this to happen.  Hermione often mentioned how handsome he had become over the summer, finally gaining some sun and getting a tan, but he took it for granted as simply a self-esteem booster.  Obviously, that hadn't been the case.  He then realised that Ron and Hermione had continued on to the Great Hall without him.

"I'm really sorry, Ginny," he said as gently as he could, "but I'm already going with someone else."

Ginny was silent.

"That's okay," she mumbled after a while.  Sighing heavily, she continued, "I guess I could always try Colin…"

Harry winced.

"I'm really sorry, Ginny," he repeated.

"It's fine, really," she assured him, though she looked as if she was holding back tears.  Hermione certainly did that a lot, especially when she looked at him or Ron.

"Well, you better go on to lunch," Ginny said in a falsely cheerful voice.

"Yeah," said Harry, dropping his gaze.

"Bye, then."

"Bye."  He turned to leave, but Ginny called to him again before he had even gone five paces.

"Who're you going with?"

Harry glanced back at her.

"Cho," he said, "Cho Chang."  And he walked away.

_Cho Chang?_  Harry's words echoed through Ginny's head.  Cho Chang, that slutty Asian girl with false looks, the one on the Ravenclaw team who's Comet Two Sixty probably couldn't out-strip Neville Longbottom on a RapidFire3000?  The same Cho Chang whose boyfriend died last year?  She must have gotten over that pretty fast.

Ginny shook her head.  Maybe she was imagining it, but she thought that Harry deserved better.

"Hey, Ginny!"  Alex called.  "Wait up!"  Alex hurried up to her friend.  "What's eating you?"  she asked concernedly, catching the expression on Ginny's face. 

"Nothing, it's just that…"  She sighed, staring after the tall figure walking toward the Great Hall.  Alex followed her gaze.

"Ahh…boy troubles," she said sympathetically.  "It's okay, Gin, you won't have that much trouble finding someone who'll have you.  Sure, Harry is quite hot—"  Alex choked, now blushing furiously.  Ginny stared at her.

"_You _think Harry's _hot_?" she breathed, now overcome with giggles.  Alex glared at her.  "Okay, okay, so he's hot.  That's not the _only _reason why…"

"Oh, that reminds me.  Ron asked me out last week."

Ginny's eyes widened.

"You don't mean, my—my _brother _do you?" she gasped.

 "Yeah," Alex said casually.

"What did you say?"

"What would you have said?"

"Considering he's my brother?  No."

"Come on, for real."

Ginny was thoughtful.

"Still no," she replied.  Alex looked hurt.

"You—you mean—you said _yes_?"  Ginny spluttered.

"Yes," she said, turning away.

"I'm sorry, Alex," Ginny said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder.  "I didn't know…honestly, I thought you were joking…"

"Never mind," Alex muttered, now heartily embarrassed.  "Let's go to lunch."

********

Harry sat in silence, poking dispiritedly at his food.  He was usually in a very good mood since Cho asked him out, but now he was obviously very depressed about something.

"What's up, Harry?"  Ron asked, ladling soup into his bowl.

"Ginny asked me to the ball," Harry mumbled.  Ron dropped the ladle in surprise.  Not only was this not the answer he expected, but Harry answered immediately.  Normally, he would have kept it all bottled up inside him until he exploded.

"She _what_?"

Harry nodded glumly.

"She'll find someone else to go with," Ron reassured him.

"It doesn't matter," Harry said, still poking at his plate. 

"That's right," said Ron, trying to cheer him up, "And you're going out with one of the hottest girls in the school."

Hermione made a noise of indignation.  Harry sighed.

"I guess you're right, Ron.  It's just that…I feel so bad for her.  She's liked me ever since before first year.  I just wish there was something I could do."

"Just let it go, Harry," Ron advised.  "She will find someone, I'm sure of it."

"All right, all right," said Harry.  He stood up.

"Where are you going?"  Hermione suddenly asked.  Harry started, glancing at her.  He had almost forgotten she was there.  

"I'm going…to class," he muttered, and he walked away.

"But there's still ten minutes until the bell rings," Ron said, staring after him.

********

Harry barrelled around without comprehending where he was going.  Without warning, he crashed headlong into someone.

"Sorry," he muttered, looking down.

"Well, you do seem to have a habit of running into me, Harry," said Cho, grinning up at him.

"Oh, very funny," he said, holding out his hand to her.  She took it, pulling herself up and straightening her robes.

"We definitely need to work on how we greet each other," she sighed.  "We can't meet at the ball by running into each other, now can we?"

"I never knew you had such a sense of humour," Harry remarked.  Cho grinned.

"You'll find out a lot of things that you never knew," she returned coolly, stepping closer.

"Oh?"  said Harry, raising an eyebrow.

"Just keep it in mind for later," she said.

"Did Cedric ever let you seduce him like this?"  Cho's smile faltered slightly.  She looked away.

"No," she replied, her voice wavering, "We never even kissed."

"Oh," said Harry, softening his voice, "I'm sorry."

There was a silence, broken only by the chattering from the Great Hall.

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"No—it's not your fault.  I should be over him by now."

"That's not true.  You have every right to miss him."  

She looked at him.

"I've always liked you, Harry," said Cho.  "Even last year, when I was with…with Cedric…I've always liked you.  My admiration has grown stronger.  I just want to be loved again."

"I love you, Cho," Harry whispered.  Cho stared at him.

"What did you say?"

"I love you," he repeated, feeling his face burn.  He suddenly noticed exactly how beautiful she was, beautiful in a different way from Ginny.  Ginny was fiery and a little boyish, which probably came from having so many older brothers.  Cho had delicate features, marble smooth skin, dark brown, almond shaped eyes, and long, straight black hair that ran down her back like a shimmering curtain.  She might have been carved from marble, thought Harry, so white was her skin.  She reminded him of a princess he had once read about in a fairy tale at his old Muggle school.

"Cedric never said that to me, either," she said at last.

Harry didn't know what to say.  Cho took another step closer, so they were only a few inches apart.  She leaned forward.

"I love you too," she whispered in his ear.  Then, without another word, she departed, leaving Harry standing there, stunned, until the bell rang, signalling the start of afternoon lessons.

********

A/N:  I warned you!  I warned you!  Besides this chapter being very short, I suck at romance!  Go ahead, flame all you want!  I don't care!  (*makes sure that no one is looking and bursts into tears*)  Okay, okay, so I do care.  But I don't blame you if you think this totally sucks now (thank you for your insight,  K.A.  Joking!).  I don't blame you if you will now refuse to read the rest…ick, Christmas Ball is coming, so that mean snogging.  EEEEEEEK!!!!!   


	8. The Christmas Ball

Okay, Crissy, for one thing, you had that pen name before.  That was before you decided to change it!  So there!  Oh, yeah, and I finally figured out that when you post this, it automatically does the space thingy between paragraphs, which explains why my fic is so long…*grins* yes, it took me eight chapters to figure that out…in case anyone cares, I fixed it all…one more thing before I start my explanations.  I am dedicating this chapter to my best friend Jordan, who recently moved to Bloomington, and just had her 13th birthday on March 21st.  Happy birthday, Jo!!!  I dunno how much she likes romance, but it's the best me and Crissy could do.  *grin* Anywayz, I realise that the "I love you" scene in last chapter happened a bit quickly.  (I kinda looked at that right after I had posted it and thought, "Oopsie…")  Really sorry about that, but that's just how I imagined that happening to me.  Yes, I'm a failure when it comes to love lives, ask any of my buds (never mind—don't answer that!), but still…meeting a tall dark and handsome, falling in love, knowing that he loves me in return…*droolz* yes, I know, it's just a dream, but it could happen…*sigh* yeah right…

Silent Tears 

Part VIII:

The Christmas Ball (and a few unexpected meetings) 

The days flew by as everyone anticipated the Christmas Ball.  Harry couldn't believe that he was actually looking _forward _to it.

Before he knew it, it was Christmas Eve.  Nearly everyone of fourth year and above was staying, so the common room was very crowded for this time of year.  Some people were trying to get through their homework over with so they wouldn't have anything to do for the rest of break except for eat and sleep.  One of these people was, of course, Hermione.  As odd as it may seem, this was unusual for her to be working right before Christmas.  There was obviously something bothering her, because she rarely spoke to anyone anymore, even Harry or Ron.

"I can't take this anymore!" she burst out savagely, throwing down her quill and standing up.

"What?" said Harry and Ron together, who where playing Exploding Snap, extremely startled by her sudden outburst.

"All this noise!" she ranted on, her eyes flashing dangerously.  "I'm going to the library!"  And she stalked off without another word.

"What was _that _all about?"  Ron and Harry asked at the same time, utterly bewildered.

*********

Hermione slammed her books down on a table in the mostly-empty library.  She turned the pages of _Ancient Runes for Dummies _feverishly fast (it was her worst subject, after Divination, so needless to say, she was getting all the help she could get), trying to find the page for her assignment.

The ancient study of runes dates back to the times when witches and wizards were only beginning…each symbol represents either a sentence or a word—

But the words were blurred by the tears that were filling her eyes, losing all hope at once.

"It isn't _fair_!" she hissed angrily, slamming the book shut as the tears fell from her eyes, splashing down onto the paper.  She forced herself to calm down, resting her head in her hands and drawing shuddering breaths.  "I am such an idiot!" she whispered lethally to herself despite her efforts.  "How could I even think they would stay single forever?"

An image of her two best friends popped into her head.  Harry with his jagged scar, covered by his unruly jet black hair that brought out the sparkle in his bright green eyes.  He was tall and thin, but somewhat muscley, a characteristic that Draco didn't have.  Harry with his slightly tanned skin and a smile that could make just about any girl in the school melt on the spot. 

Then of course, there was Ron.  Her flame haired friend had grown nicely into his big nose and feet, causing him to look about the height of most seventh years.  When he stood next to Fred and George, he was often mistaken for a triplet of theirs, though his sparkling blue eyes contrasted with their green ones, and his slightly less freckled face held more innocence than theirs.

Then somewhere deep in the back of her mind, another image loomed.  It was Draco.  He was also slightly taller than her, but not quite as tall as Harry or Ron.  His passive, stone cold greyish silver eyes never betrayed a single emotion within him, and his evil smirk ever lingered on his lips.  He was always pale, even after summer vacation, and his silver blonde hair often glinted with a nearly metallic shine.

Suddenly, a cold, pale hand touched her shoulder, bringing her back to the real world with a sudden jolt, causing her to wince as she jumped about three feet in the air.  Whipping around, she came face to face with—

—Draco.

Narrowing her dark mahogany eyes that had suddenly dried in her surprise, she glared up at those silver grey ones that almost always held her spellbound.  "What do you want?" 

"I…was…just…"  His cold composure cracked as he fumbled nervously for the right words, his eyes holding something that she couldn't quite place.  "Do—do you want to go to the ball with me?"

_Of course!_  she thought wildly to herself, but instead the words that came out of her mouth were, "No!  You're a _Slytherin_!"

His face crumpled, and the look in his eyes was that of someone who was just told that their dog had died.  "So?"

She stared into his big silver eyes and tried to say, _Yes, I'll go with you!_  but her mouth didn't seem to be working right.  "I said no, Malfoy, so why don't you just go be obnoxious with your other Slytherin friends and leave me alone?"

His back straightened with a snap and he glared down at her through steel slits of rage.  For a wild second, she thought he was going to whip out his wand and curse her.  Instead, he just gave her a weltering glare.  "You could have just said no," he muttered, his voice void of all emotion, save for the hurt that pierced her heart.  Turning around, he stalked out of the library, his slim fingers clenched into fists, and his thin lips formed into a straight line.

Before she could stop herself, she screamed out to him with her thoughts.  _Wait, Draco!  I'm sorry, I'll go with you!  _But there was no response.  It was just as she had suspected. 

She had completely lost the connection.

********

Later that day, Hermione stopped, miles away from the library.  Hot, angry tears were splashing down her front.  What had just happened?  Did Draco actually ask her out?  No, no way.  This wasn't possible.  What did she have that he wanted so badly that he couldn't simply ask Pansy out for?  

She shook her head, wiping her eyes.  Guys were so unpredictable.   

*********

"Uhg!" said Ron, covering his face with his hands.

"What is it?"  Harry asked lazily, staring out the dark window at the falling, swirling snowflakes.

"I just remembered—tomorrow is the Christmas Ball," he said faintly.

"Yeah, and…?"

"And all I have to wear are cruddy maroon robes!"

Harry shrugged.

"Well, at least we have dates this year."

"Good point…"  Ron sighed.  "I'm going to bed."  He stood up and climbed the stairs to the dorms.

Harry got up, frowning.  Why hadn't the twins gotten those robes for him?  

"Hey, Fred, George," he said, walking over to them.  They looked up from the parchment that they were using to count all the money they'd earned from their Canary Creams and their newly invented Sugar Gliders (little white airplane-like pieces of sugar that really flew) and smiled at Harry.

"Hello, Harry, what can we do for you today?" said George.

"I was just wondering, did you get those dress robes for Ron yet?  Because he says all he has are his maroon ones."

"Don't worry, he'll be getting a nice present for Christmas," Fred assured him, winking.  "From us," he added.

Harry relaxed.

"Thanks," he said.  "See you tomorrow."

"You got a date to the ball this time?"  George asked.

"Yeah…"

"Good job, mate, told you it was a piece of cake," said Fred, grinning at him.  "Merry Christmas."

*********

"Merry Christmas Harry!"  Ron shouted joyfully the following morning, ripping back the hangings around his best friend's bed.  Seamus, Dean, and Neville had already gone down for breakfast.

"Mmm?" said Harry drowsily, sitting up and taking his glasses off the table and putting them on.  Ron was ripping his way through his Christmas presents when he came across a parcel that he didn't recognise. 

"Huh?" he breathed, lifting the parcel off the floor, which seemed to be quite light.  "Wonder what this is?"

Harry watched from his bed as Ron read the attached letter.

" 'Merry Christmas, Love Fred and George,'" he read aloud.  Shrugging, he proceeded to unwrapping the gift.

"Wow," he said, lifting something dark orange—almost red—from the paper.  It was the exact colour of his hair.  "New dress robes," he muttered, running his hand over the light, velvety material.  "Wonder where they got the money?"

Harry shrugged, hiding his smile.

"These are _wonderful_," he went on, "Thank God I don't have to wear those bloody maroon ones anymore."

After unwrapping their gifts, the two boys went downstairs for breakfast.

********

The rest of the day flashed by.  In a matter of seconds, it seemed, they were from breakfast to the Christmas feast (the ball didn't include a feast this time).  Before they could blink, it was seven o'clock, time for everyone to prepare for the ball.  Hermione had disappeared hours before, probably trying out some new hair style, thought Harry.

Trudging up the stairs, they pulled out their dress robes, surveying themselves in the mirrors.  Harry tried desperately to flatten his hair.

"Wow," Ron breathed, staring, transfixed, at his image in the glass.  "I look good."

Harry smirked.  "Save it for Alex, Ron," he sniggered.  "I wouldn't be surprised if she's run off with someone else by now with all the time you've spent admiring yourself."

"Yeah, let's go," said Ron, taking a deep breath, as though preparing for the worst.

They met Alex Prelling downstairs.  Her hair was in a zigzag part, her bangs curling under her chin elegantly.  She was stunningly pretty in robes of the deepest purple velvet, almost black.

"Hello, Ron," she said upon seeing him, her voice flatteringly warm.

"He-hello," Ron stuttered, momentarily lost for words.

Harry could feel himself being watched closely.  He turned his head to see Ginny standing nearby, arm in arm with Colin Creevey, dressed in red robes of fine satin, who was chattering away energetically at her elbow (he was still very short).  When she saw Harry return her gaze, she looked away.

Ron prodded him in the back.

"C'mon, Harry, get going.  Don't want to keep Cho waiting, now, do we?"

"No," Harry answered absently, wrenching his gaze from Ginny.

"Where's Hermione?"  Harry asked, suddenly realising she wasn't there.  Ron shrugged.

"No idea.  Haven't seen her since this morning."

Assuming that she found someone to go out with who she wanted to be kept secret until the last minute, they headed down to the entrance hall where everyone else was, waiting for the doors to open, for the ball to begin.

"Hello, Harry," said a voice in his ear.  He turned around to see Cho, breathtakingly beautiful in robes of Ravenclaw blue.  Her hair was up in a large clip, her bangs hanging down at the sides of her face in large curls.

"Well, we've managed the impossible," said Harry, unable to take his eyes off her, " of not running into each other."

"Quite true," she said, looping her arm around his.  "Shall we, then?"

"Sure."  Harry glanced at Ron, who winked, holding Alex's hand.

The doors to the Hall opened at that moment, and everyone rushed forward.

The Hall was spectacular.  Warm, dry snow was falling from the starry ceiling, making the twelve Christmas trees glitter and sparkle.  Holly and mistletoe hung on the walls.  The tables had been moved back so that several small circular tables stood here and there, but out of the way, near a bar that had set up with refreshments, stood a stand with a synthesizer, guitar, drums, and a microphone that stood at the other end, leaving plenty of room for dancing.  It seemed that Dumbledore had booked another music group.

Harry, Cho, Alex, Ron, Ginny, and Colin all sat at one table, leaving two chairs for Hermione and her date, though she wasn't anywhere to be seen.

Once everyone was seated, Dumbledore remained standing.

"Merry Christmas, one and all!" he beamed at them, after silence had fallen.  "I am pleased to see that you have each found someone of importance to you to share this event of great importance."  He glanced at the table where Harry was seated.  "Now, may the ball begin!"

There was scattered applause and cheers from the students, and a group of about five or six young men marched onstage, dressed mainly in dragon hide leather.

Taking their places in front of their instruments, the group struck up a slow, beautiful tune.  People where tentatively rising from their seats, dancing to the music.  Harry glanced nervously at Cho.  He was terrible at dancing—what would she think of him?  She looked just as nervous as him.  He hesitantly held out his hand, which she took, and joined the others on the dance floor.  Ron and Alex followed, and, after a while, so did Ginny and Colin, Ginny with an expression on her face that clearly said she would rather go to hell, and Colin looking extremely excited about having the best looking girl of the year agree to go to the ball with him, not noticing how very resentful she sounded when she did.

Harry wished that tonight would last forever, despite his dancing problem.  Though awkward at first, he and Cho were soon dancing gracefully around the Hall.  Cho, Harry noted, danced extremely elegantly, something he hadn't noticed last year while watching her with Cedric.  She was so graceful that she made him feel clumsy and slow.  She didn't steer him, like Parvati did, but moved with him, gently guiding his steps.

They continued dancing through two more short songs.  Alex disappeared for a few minutes, then returned to Ron with a very pleased smile on her face.  When he asked her where she had gone, she only shook her head and smiled again, pulling him closer.

When the song ended, a new one sprang up.  These notes were beautiful and calm in an eerie way, washing over Harry like a wave of warm water.  Then the lyrics came:

Now that she's back in the atmosphere                                                                                                                                                                                  With drops of Jupiter in her hair, hey, hey, hey… 

The words held a certain meaning, one that Harry couldn't place.  

_Since the return of her stay on the moon,                                                                                                                                                                               She listens like spring and talks like June…_

Harry's gaze travelled over to Alex and Ron.  Alex had her eyes closed and was listening to the music, tranquillity written all over her face.  She leaned against Ron, who looked quite terrified, but gradually relaxed.

_Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken,                                                                                                                                                             Your best friend always sticking up for you even when I know you're wrong.                                                                                                          Can you imagine no first dance, freeze-dried romance, five-hour phone conversation,                                                                                            The best soy latte that you ever had…and me…_

It was plain, at this moment, that it was not only a Muggle song, but American, which explained why nobody had ever heard it before, except for Alex.

Tell me, did you sail across the sun                                                                                                                                                                                        Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded                                                                                                                                     And that heaven is overrated                                                                                                                                                                                     Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star                                                                                                                                                                      One without a permanent scar                                                                                                                                                                                   And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there. 

_…and did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day…_

With that, the song ended.

"Wow," said Cho.  "American Muggles know a lot more about music than we give them credit for, don't they?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

"Let's sit down for a while, now, shall we?  My feet are killing me."  The band had finally struck up a livelier tune.  

"Sure."

They left the dance floor to sit back down with Ron and Alex.  Ginny and Colin where sitting there as well.

"I'm sorry, but I just had to request that," Alex was saying wistfully, "It's my favourite song.  One of my best friends in the U.S., Michelle, she's Muggle-born, so she showed me her CD's."

"CD's…?"  Ron said blankly.

"Oh, sorry.  Compact disks, they play music," she explained.

"Oh…"

Harry suddenly noticed a pretty girl with long, wavy, white-blonde hair that looked as if it was mostly kept in a braid.  She wore light blue robes with tiny silver rhinestones set in them that shone in the dim light with her every movement.  She appeared to be lost and looking for someone; Harry had never seen this girl before, and she was surely in fourth year.  She was questioning a group of people, who pointed over at Harry.  The girl smiled and thanked them, rushing over to where they had pointed.

"Alex!" she called, and Harry could detect a strong American accent.  Alex almost choked on her butterbeer that Ron had brought her as she stared at the girl in utter amazement.

"_Michelle?_" she gasped.  "How did you—where did you—?"  But she was suddenly swept up in a hug by the girl.

"Alex!  I missed you so much!"

"Michelle!  I can't believe it's you!" said Alex, recovering from the shock.

"This is so cool!  I heard our song played just a little while ago, so I knew you had to be nearby.  Who are your friends?" Michelle added.

"This is Harry Potter, the Quidditch captain, my date, Ron Weasley—" Ron blushed deep scarlet—"Ginny Weasley, Ron's sister, my very good friend, and her—date—Colin Creevey." 

Michelle shook everyone's hand, still wearing a shy grin.

"Everyone, this is my wonderful friend, Veronica Michelle Wilson.  Only she would rather be called Michelle," Alex added hastily under Veronica's furious glare.  "How's Crissy?  Does she miss me yet?"

"Oh, yeah.  She's been spending half of her time singing that damn Shrek song.  Iiiiii'm all _alone,_ there's no one here beside me…"  Alex started singing with her, though she was giggling so hard that she ended up snorting.

_Veronica Wilson?  V.W.?_  Harry shot a look at Ron, who must have been thinking the same thing.  But then he was brought back to earth with a slight bump when he realised that Alex was speaking to him.

"…Michelle is a Beater, did you know that, Harry?  She's one of the best I've ever seen."

"Oh, that reminds me, somehow," said Michelle, "I've got really good news.  My mom talked to the principle here—"

"_Headmaster_, Michelle," Alex corrected.

"Oh, whatever.  Well, they've both going to let me stay here for the rest of the year."

"Really?  That's great!  You know, Harry, couldn't we use a reserve Beater this year?"

"Well, we really don't need one, as we're out of the running for the cup…" said Harry resentfully.  Cho patted his arm sympathetically, making several people grin behind his or her hands.

"And it was all bloody Malfoy's fault!"  Ron roared.

"Calm down, Ron," Alex whispered.

It suddenly occurred to Harry that he hadn't yet seen Malfoy.  As casually as he could, he gazed around the Hall, but Draco was nowhere to be seen

"So what school did you guys go to?"  Ron asked.

"Millburn School of the Magical Arts," Michelle and Alex answered together.  They looked at each other, then burst into laughter.  Michelle's laugh was loud and slightly high, a sudden burst of sound so contagious that it made everyone smile.  It was the kind that came not only from her stomach, but from her very soul.

"Tell us about the teachers," Ginny insisted, "Were they nice?"

"Most of them were," said Alex, controlling herself, "Our Potions teacher is pregnant, she's a riot—very much the opposite of Professor Snape."

"I'll say," Ron muttered, "And I'd pay to see the day that Snape gets pregnant."

Everyone nearly fell out of their chairs with laughter, causing people at nearby tables to stare.  Michelle's laugh made everyone laugh even harder.

"Then there was our Arithmancy teacher, Mrs. Sutton," Michelle choked.  [And at this point, all my buds and I run away, screaming.]  "She was boring, to say the least.  And she would always yell at us.  We never really were able to absorb anything she told us—"

"Yeah.  My grade in her class was barely passing," Alex grumbled.   

"Our Charms teacher was okay," Michelle went on, "but she always seemed to favour you."

Alex shrugged.  "It was my strong class, what can I say?  Transfiguration was okay," said added, "We always somehow managed to get off the subject with her…Oh, the subject I hated the most was History of Magic with Mr. Schroeder, next to Arithmancy.  That wasn't dull, just pointless.  He hated me, I know it.  Michelle wasn't in my class, but my best friend Crissy and I told her all about that time that she got in loads of trouble because she sighed after he told her to stay in for recess—"

"Then afterwards she was like, 'What would you have rathered me say?  Kiss my ass you gay bastard?'"  Michelle interrupted with a snigger.  

Harry and Ron stared at them as if they had sprouted extra heads.

And the conversation went on, interrupted occasionally by bursts of laughter.  Then another slow song came on, and they all parted.  Alex told Michelle to scout out the area for any guys she found worthy to dance with her, and everyone danced.

*********

Standing in the shadows behind one of the towering evergreens, Hermione stared longingly at the two tall figures, swaying slowly in time with the music, their partners leaning close, savouring the evening.  Furious, blinded by jealousy, she spun around, meaning to stalk away to the bar, when she bumped into someone very tall—and quite familiar.

"Hello, Herm-own-ninny," said a deep voice.

"Viktor!"  Hermione gasped.  "What on earth are you doing here?"

He smiled a secret smile, the one that she knew so well.

"I received a lettair from a friend of yours.  He didn't give his name, only that you needed someone for the Christmas ball."

"Oh—well, that's really sweet of you—and him," she faltered as Viktor gathered her in his arms.  She smiled back at him at last.  "Let's dance."

Several songs later, Hermione caught herself staring at Harry with a powerful ache in her heart.  Krum noticed.

"You loff Potter, don't you?" he asked carefully.

"I—no, of course not!"  Hermione protested.  Viktor smiled at her.

"It's alright, Herm-own-ninny.  I can alvays tell.  It doesn't matter.  I am avare that you think I am far too old for you, so maybe it is time that ve see different people…"

"No!  Harry already has a girlfriend…and I missed you so much…"

"Maybe now is not the time to talk about it," Krum interrupted gently.  "I can see that the topic upsets you.  Maybe later…"

Hermione nodded.  She was just relaxing when a movement of something silver-blonde caught her eye.  Then it stopped.

Draco Malfoy was standing across the Hall, watching her as she and Viktor danced.  He saluted, smiling.

"Merry Christmas," he mouthed, and disappeared into the crowd.

**********

"Let's go outside.  It's far too warm in here."

"Good idea."

Cho lead Harry through the Great Hall to the grounds outside.  There was a short, narrow path among the many rosebushes that had been conjured there for the sake of the evening.  They set off down the path, trying to think of something to talk about to fill the awkward silence.

"So, how have you been doing these past few months?"  Harry began lamely, cringing at his words.  Cho smiled at his pathetic attempt at small talk, and move closer to him as if cold.

"Oh, just fine," she replied, humouring him.

The awkward silence was more pronounced than ever.

"I like your robes," Cho blurted, "Green's a good colour on you.  It brings out your eyes."

"You really think so?  Thanks.  I like yours too.  They bring out your—"  He gulped, his eyes travelling to the tight robes that emphasized her chest.  "Your—hair colour?" he squeaked, flushing.  Cho smiled again.

"Yes, I've heard that from a lot of people tonight," she answered, her dark eyes sparkling.  Then she shivered slightly, not from the cold, but from the look he was giving her.  It wasn't the forbidden "elevator eyes," but a look of deep respect that not very many guys these days gave her.  Most of them were male chauvinist pigs that were too intent on her tantalizing figure.    

 "Are you cold?"  Harry asked, seeing her shiver, his voice bringing her back to earth from her thoughts.

"A little," she answered, allowing him to cover her shoulders with his surprisingly large arms.  Quidditch practise was obviously paying off; he'd make a pretty good Beater, Cho thought.  His dress robes, which had been far too big for him last year, were now almost too small: They were slightly stretched over broad shoulders that he definitely hadn't had last year.

She blushed slightly, putting her smaller arm timidly around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder.  She could feel his body tense up nervously, and his fingers twitch.  She put her other hand lightly on his right shoulder and moved in front of him, looking into his big, lovely emerald eyes…

He felt her move in front of him and looked up.  His heart leapt right out of his chest and into his throat.  For several seconds, he held her gaze, then without thinking, he leaned forward, catching her back in his hands, and pressed his lips softly against hers.  He could feel her relaxing into his embrace as she slowly pulled him closer.  Her arms moved from his waist to around his neck, deepening the kiss.

For a long time, they held that position, never moving.  But just as Harry was drifting off to a peaceful realm of his own, a very amused voice shattered the silence of his mind.

_Well, well, well.  Congratulations, Potter._

Choking, Harry pulled back from Cho.

"_Malfoy!_" he gasped, looking into the shadows.  

"What?" asked Cho, quite confused, her hands still on his shoulders.  "What does he have to do with this?"  [At this point, she is implying that Harry and Draco have something going on, which, of course, they don't.  AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!  SLASH MOMENT!!!  k, I'm done.]  Harry shook his head and motioned to the shadowy rosebushes behind them, half concealing a stone bench and the very mischievous, pale blonde boy who was perched on it, watching the two lazily, the moonlight turning his hair to molten silver.  Malfoy grinned, amused, at Harry's look of surprise and embarrassment, quickly being replaced by rage.

"It's been over ten minutes," Malfoy drawled, glancing at his watch.  "You two can sure put on quite a show."

Both Cho and Harry flushed this time.

"Get lost, you little piece of—"  he started acidly, his fist clenching, after he had stepped away from Cho.

"Never mind, Harry," Cho interrupted quietly.  "Let him watch."  She glared at Draco.  "Go to hell, Malfoy," she snapped viciously, and grabbed Harry, and kissed him again.  Caught entirely by surprise, Harry stiffened, but gradually melted into her arms.  He glanced at Malfoy out of the corner of his eye, and was pleased to see him looking astonished—and maybe even a bit jealous [no slash intended], then equally pleased to hear him say distantly, "Okay, that's it, I've had enough!  This is making me _sick_!"  And he almost ran back inside.  Harry was so completely happy by now that he forgot about all his thoughts and worries, savouring the moment, making it last forever.

So engrossed in each other they were that they didn't even notice the small brunette figure hiding among the leaves.  Yet Hermione Granger was there, watching them, her thoughts and feelings confirmed.  She had come looking for him, simply to say hello, and definitely hadn't been expecting this.  Slowly and sadly, she turned her back, vowing to never love again.

**********

As Harry had learned last year, when you are dreading or enjoying something, and in either case would give anything to slow time down, no matter what you do, it has this annoying habit of speeding up.  All too soon, it was midnight, and the ball was at an end.  Cho and Harry walked back inside, standing close together.

"You know," Harry said after a moment, "this may sound odd, but—"

"_Don't _tell me you've never kissed before," Cho interrupted, "because I wouldn't believe you."  Harry grinned.  Cho giggled and stood on her tiptoes, kissing him on the cheek before heading off to the Ravenclaw common room.

Harry stood, mesmerised, watching her leave, his fingers now resting on the spot where she had just kissed him, remembering how her soft lips felt against his cheek…

He suddenly felt a sharp pain in his shoulder.  Turning around, he saw a dark haired girl with her fist extended.

"What was that for, Alex?" he asked, rubbing his shoulder.

Alex dropped her fist, glaring at him murderously.  "How could you do that to her?"

"Do what to who?" he asked confusedly.

Alex pointed wordlessly at the girl with red hair who was running down the hall, her face in her hands.  "She has loved you ever since she met you, and you haven't even given her so much as a nice word or a hug!"

Harry opened his mouth to counter her accusation, but she held up a hand in his face.

"Save it for Cho, lover-boy," she said coldly, and she turned around and ran after Ginny.

Harry stood there, his mouth wide open.  His day had just gone from amazing to horrible in mere seconds.  A pang of guilt shot through him as he realised just how true her words had been.  He trudged slowly back to the common room, his feet as heavy as his heart.  When he arrived, he was met my Ron and Hermione.

"Hey, Hermione, we didn't see you at all tonight.  Did you end up going with anybody?"  Harry asked, trying to shake the feeling that _everyone _was watching him.

"Krum came," Hermione said, trying to hide the edge of irony that was creeping into her voice.  She smiled, her fists clenching underneath her robes.  "Draco sent him an owl."  She kept her composure, but inside she was screaming at herself.  It had just dawned on her that out of the three, right now Draco was the only one who cared.  When she had refused harshly to go to the ball with him, he had gotten the guy that she would.

"Really?  That's…great!"  Harry answered, though he noticed that her smile was cold, almost frozen on her face.

"And how was it with Cho?"  Hermione asked, struggling to keep her voice neutral, but she couldn't help but notice that his face had gone slightly pink and that his robes were a little loose.

"Alright," he answered, casually straightening his robes as his face darkened to a bright red, though his brow was slightly creased, telling her that his evening hadn't been all he had said. 

"That's…good.  Well, I better get to bed now.  Good-night."

"Night."  It seemed to Harry that Hermione was trying to end this conversation as fast as possible, so he let her go even though he had a nagging feeling inside him that said there was more to the situation that she was letting on.

**********

"Shh…it's okay, Ginny, it's okay," Alex said soothingly up in the fourth year girls' dorms.  Ginny had been sitting on her bed crying for over an hour now.  Michelle was running back and forth for tissues, nearly upsetting several cages along the way.  Their dorm was full with Michelle's numerous pets and even a few wild animals such as squirrels and chipmunks with injuries that she had nursed back to health.  ("For crying out loud, Michelle," Alex had said, "These poor creatures are in enough pain without your help.")  Ginny was at the moment stroking a tabby kitten called Nikki (Michelle's favourite pet), sniffing as Alex tried to comfort her.

"Really, Ginny, you're overreacting.  He's older, his tastes are different, even if they aren't good tastes, he's still got his reasons," Alex said, patting her on the arm.

"Wow," Ginny said sarcastically, "You're _really _good at cheering people up, Alex…"

"Hey, I'm doing the best I can, so take it or leave it," she grumbled, scowling.  But then her face softened.  "If it's any consolation," she said softly after a moment's pause, "he looked really upset after I yelled at him.  I think he's actually feeling some remorse for how he's treated you."

"It's not that he's treated me badly…"  Ginny began, "it's that he hasn't even given me a chance."

"And I don't know if that's gonna help much," Michelle said, "cuz a lot of people look upset after you yell at them."

Alex gave her a nasty look as Michelle handed Ginny another tissue.  After blowing her nose, she sighed.

"I guess I shouldn't be getting all worked up over one guy," she said at last.

"That's right," said Michelle, "Remember that saying, Alex?  How did it go?"

" 'Someone who makes you cry isn't worth your tears, and the one who is, won't make you cry,'" she said solemnly, then she sighed.  "I had to learn that the hard way.  At least you were mature enough not to break down right in front of him."

"You were two years younger back then," Michelle reminded her.  "And besides, you had had no prior experience with guys."

"All right, all right!  Let's all just go to sleep now, okay?"  Alex gave Ginny a big hug and climbed into her bed.

"Goodnight."

"'Night."

*********

Hermione lay in bed, staring up at the dark canopy.  _Why? _she asked herself.  _Why do these things always happen to me?_  Ron wasn't supposed to get a girlfriend, and neither was Harry.  

Damn them!  Damn them for loving! 

But suddenly, she recalled something that she had said once before.  Her own words stung as they rang through her head, but this time it was Ron's voice that was shouting them.

"_Ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!"_

She buried her head in her pillow, trying to blot out the familiar voice, but it grew louder and louder as if he was standing right next to her, screaming in her ear.

"What have I done?" she muttered, bitter tears falling from her eyes and soaking her pillow.

**********

**Ack, there I go again.  Stupid—rushed—romance.  Sometimes I just get a little carried away...This is turning from angst to a soap opera!  Crissy wrote the first kiss, by the way…Right, now, before you all start flaming, let me explain and apologise for a few more things.  Number one:  I know I was exaggerating a bit with Drops of Jupiter, but it is, like Alex's, my favourite song.  Number two:  Michelle is, in truth, a replica of my good friend K.A., whose middle name is Michelle.  Her first name is Sarah (not the one obsessed with Neopets--K.A. is Sarah M.'s nickname, standing for Kick Ass.)  The description of her is genuine.  She requested that I put tons of animals in her dorm.  Nikki is, by the way, her only real pet.  I just hope she doesn't come and hunt me down for that description...anyway, we all go to Millburn School, both Sarahs, Crissy, P.D. (Puppy Dog), Sapphire Rose, all my buds.  Those teachers are real as well.  Our Science teacher is pregnant, our L.A. teacher favours me (at least, I think she does…or maybe it's just that the work is too easy?  Oh, no, that doesn't mean you should give me more homework…), our Math teacher  is Mrs. Sutton, Mr. Schroeder teaches Social Studies and has some real problems (oh dear, maybe I shouldn't be typing this, I don't know how many of my teachers are reading this!  *gulps*  Just don't give me detention, or tell dear Mr. Schroeder, you all are still my favourite teachers!  And that detention joke wasn't funny, Megan…*big winning grin*  Thank God for freedom of speech.  There you go, Mr. Schroeder, the Constitution in action!), you guys get the gist.  Well, I better stop there before my mouth and fingers get me in trouble (not that they haven't before.  *cough cough grin*).  Till next time, my friends!  (For those of you who are still my friends...)**


	9. The Quidditch Final

I'm really sorry that took so long!  Crissy had to *coughcough* "proof read" some of this stuff, cuz she isn't a romance fan.  It was difficult to make it slow.  I know you probably hear this a lot, but I'm still not happy with the outcome…This chapter starts out kinda slow, so bear with me.  I've gotta have something to fill in the gap of about a month, and the Quidditch match isn't nearly exciting as the last one…and one more thing.  My wonderful Reading teacher told us a while ago that sometimes characters will do some things that aren't entirely logical so it can cooperate with the plot.  For those of you who think you've figured out this "mystery"…and for all you romance and D/Hm fans, this is the chapter for you.  And this time, I wrote it all by myself….aren't you proud of me?  *sigh*  And this is one of the most unlikely ships in Hogwarts.  But one of the cutest.  *grin*  I just hope no one gets to seriously really mad at me, cuz this one is a bit graphic.  I didn't know I could to that…Oh, no, I'm going all soft on you!  I promise, the next few chapters will have more action, suspense, and angst, and only ONE more really graphic make out scene, okay?  You have permission to hurt me if I do anymore.  It will be the one you have all been waiting for….*grinz evilly*…but which one?

Silent Tears 

Part IX:

_The Quidditch Final and Some Things That Come to Light (I think)_

The dawning of spring brought with it the dawning of the Quidditch season.  Gryffindor was only practising for the heck of it since they were no longer in the running for the cup.  Ravenclaw was, and the last game of the year, which would, of course, determine the Champion, was Ravenclaw versus Slytherin.  

Michelle accompanied Alex and the rest of the team to practises once a week on every Friday, bringing her own PhoenixFlyer400 with her.  Just as Alex had said, Michelle was an exceptional Beater; her skills rivalled those of Fred and George.  Cho came too, just to watch, much to the annoyance of Hermione.  It didn't matter much that Cho saw their strategies, so Harry went to her practises too and gave her some tips.

The match was to be held in mid-April.  Ravenclaw had already beaten Hufflepuff, so they were ensured to be in the finals.  Malfoy was swaggering around, so sure that he would beat them as easily as he beat Gryffindor.

Still about a month before the match, breakfast turned into an exciting affair, for some of the Gryffindors, at least.  The owls streamed in and, unexpectedly, a beautiful black owl swooped over the Gryffindor table, dropping a letter on Alex's plate.  Picking it up and wiping the syrup from the parchment, her curiosity turned to delight as she saw the return address.

"It's from Crissy!" she said excitedly to Michelle.

"Well, open it!"  Michelle persisted.  Without another moment's hesitation, Alex ripped open the envelope and read from black paper with colour changing ink:

_Yo, Prelling, wazzup?          _

_I know, I know…I promised to write you as soon__as you got to London, but I was busy drooling over the new student ^_~ He's cute!  I'm sure you'd like him, he's a Chaser too (and a damn good one)._

_Anyways, meet any hot British guys?  Don't you just love their accents?  *sigh*  God I wish I was there…_

Is Hogwarts all it's cracked up to be?  It looks great from all those pics that I've found, but I wanna know what you think.

_Has Michelle arrived yet?  I'm sure she has…Ever since she left, I'm the only decent Beater around here anymore…Oh, by the way, I finally saved up enough money to buy a PhoenixFlyer400!  Right after I get done writing, I'm gonna go with Lynn to get it._

_I really miss ya, Alex, and guess what?  My step-mom said we might move to England by the end of the year; my dad was offered a job in the Ministry!  (You'll be in for a BIG surprise when you see me!)_

_-Your single and looking (^_~) pal,         _

Crissy Rizzotto

"Yes!" shouted Alex and Michelle, who had read the letter over her shoulder.  "Crissy's comin' Crissy's comin' Crissy's comin'!"

"Who's  coming?"  Ron asked.

"Our best friend Crissy!"  Alex explained.  "She's coming around the end of the year!"

"You and Harry better run, Ron," Michelle warned.  "Cuz she goes for all the hot ones."  Then she clapped her hand over her mouth.  "Did I just say that?" she giggled.

"Oh, Ron, you don't have to go anywhere," Alex said, as Harry and Ron flushed.  "She better not touch you, or I'll come and get her…"

"Ah, well, who could get enough of American women?"  Ron asked innocently, slipping his arm around Alex's shoulders.  Michelle and Alex snorted.

"Well, we better be off for History of Magic," Ginny said, somewhat stiffly, breaking up the conversation and getting to her feet.

"See you, babe," Ron said as Alex kissed him on the cheek.  

"That's the first word of American slang I've heard come out of your mouth," she commented.  Ron grinned.  

"Hey, there's always a first time for everything," he said.  Alex giggled, pocketing the letter.

In Professor Binns' classroom, Alex, Ginny, and Michelle all sat side by side in the back of the class (the better to pass notes, course.  Who…me?  Never…).  A few minutes after Professor Binns had become absorbed in his own lecture, Alex heard the crinkle of paper to her right.  Glancing over, she saw Michelle holding up a piece of paper that said, _Write to Crissy!  Alex rolled her eyes and nodded.  She pulled out a piece of parchment and her special gold ink and wrote:_

**_Hey, Rizzotto,_**

**_Of course I've met hot British guys!  What did you think they would be, American?  You probably won't believe this, but I've got a boyfriend!  He's a year older than me and incredibly sweet.  Michelle is here and we've been filling him in about our American lives.  Oh, yeah, his name is Ron, and he's a redhead (red-hot!  *rerr*).  I just hope you don't steal him from me when you come…And guess who I've met?  Get ready for this one…Harry Potter!  He's even hotter in real life, but not as…what's the word?  Honest?  I don't know.  I'll explain when you get here.  Ron's his best friend, and his sister, Ginny, is our age and my best friend!  How cool is that?_**

Hogwarts is awesome.  Would I lie to you?  Don't answer that… ^_~  Oh, yeah, and how about that cute new Chaser?  What's his name?  Well, don't get too cosy with him; there are loads of guys here you'll like!

**_Congratulations on getting a Phoenix.  Bring it here!  There's a Quidditch team and another Beater will be needed._**

**_You said you love those British accents?  Stay here long enough and you'll have one of your own for that Chaser to love!  ^_~ What's the surprise??_**

**_Not much more going on here.  Really miss you and can't wait to see you!  Write back soon,_**

**_Bff,_**

Alex Prelling P.S.  Ginny and Michelle say hi.  Say hi to Lynn for me. Folding it up, she passed the letter to Michelle to read.  After a few minutes, she grinned and handed it back to Alex.  At that precise moment, the bell rang.  Giggling to themselves, the three got up and headed for their next class. 

*******

Hermione sat silently in Potions class, spacing out the familiar drone of Professor Snape's cold voice.  The room was warmer than usual, lulling Hermione into a much-needed yawn.  Resting her chin on her arms, she tried desperately to get the images of her best friends out of her head, but to no avail.  She kept seeing those bright green, emerald eyes, those sparkling blue eyes…and even, in the depths of her mind, there lurked shining silver ones.  She yelled inwardly at herself, _Hermione, you fool!  How could you expect them to stick around forever?!  Hermione, get over yourself and move on!  You have a wonderful boyfriend, don't let your best friends change that—_

"Well, well, well…Miss Granger."  A cold, sharp voice brought her back to earth so fast it could have given her whiplash.  Her head snapped up and she stared around, confused.  All of the Slytherins were sniggering—all of them, that is, except for Draco, who was being elbowed repeatedly in the ribs by the laughing Crabbe and Goyle.  The Gryffindors were all staring at her, stunned.

"Wha—what?" she managed to stutter as Ron and Harry stared at her, bewildered.

"You were asleep…in _class_, Hermione," Ron said quietly, gesturing towards Snape, who was, at the moment, glaring at her maliciously. 

"Mr Weasley is quite right for once, Miss Granger," he sneered, making the Slytherins only laugh harder (Malfoy had been knocked to the ground this time as Crabbe and Goyle broke into gales of laughter).  "Twenty points from Gryffindor…and detention."

Hermione looked as if she was going to burst into tears.  Luckily, the bell rang at that moment.  Snatching up her stuff, she fled the room.

*********

"Hermione—wait for us!"  Harry shouted, him and Ron struggling through the tide of students pouring from the classrooms.  She didn't answer.  They caught a glimpse of her, running through the crowd, her head bowed with tears streaming down her face.  Ron was startled; opening his mouth, starting toward her, he was just about to call out to her, but Harry elbowed him in the ribs, grabbed his arm, and shook his head.

"She needs to be by herself," he said softly.  "She's been upset about something for a while now.  Let her go."

For a while, Ron hesitated, straining slightly in Harry's grip and staring after Hermione, who had long since disappeared .  Finally, he swallowed and nodded.

"I just wish there was something I could do…" he muttered reluctantly.  Harry nodded in understanding.

"Don't we all," he agreed, "but some things just need to help themselves."

Ron sighed.  "I guess it's just because I—never mind."  His ears turned red; he seemed to think he had said too much.  Harry decided it better to not pursue the subject.  He shrugged and walked to class, Ron trailing silently along behind him.

********

At dinner that night, Hermione sat next to Harry and Ron in complete silence, not even bothering to fill her golden plate.  Instead, she propped her chin on her hand and stared straight ahead into space.  Ron and Harry kept shooting her worried glances along the table as they helped themselves to several chicken legs and biscuits each.  But she merely sat, deep in thought, oblivious to everything going on around her.  The only things she was aware of were the three haunting faces, all swirling around her head, each chasing each other back and forth—

But suddenly, one of them stopped spinning, enough to realise that what she was imagining was real.  A pair of glimmering silver eyes stared into hers from across the Hall.  Draco flashed her a small smile, which she returned weakly.  Then he was gone.

Hermione blinked, confused, not sure what had been real and what hadn't been.  Finally, she gave up and left the hall, not caring whether Harry and Ron were following her or not.

**********

Ron sighed, leaning back against the pillows of his large bed.  He reached up, brushing his flame coloured hair out of his sapphire eyes.

_Was Harry insane? _he wondered, staring around blindly; the curtains of his four-poster had been closed so as to block out the cold glare of the silver moon.  _I mean, to think of _Malfoy _as a friend?  _He couldn't help but think of Draco as an enemy.  And why had Hermione been acting so oddly lately?

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he willed sleep to overcome him, but it was a good hour before any rest came. 

**********

"My Lord."  His father's voice clawed its way through his troubled sleep, making him shudder.

"What is it, Lucius?"  Voldemort's cold voice shot back, sounding quite annoyed at being interrupted from whatever he had been doing.

"We have received the results from the charm that was preformed back in the winter, master," Lucius informed him.  Draco could almost picture his father, standing nervously before the hideous man whom he served, struggling to keep the cool composure for which the Malfoy family was known for.

"So?"  Voldemort hissed, his voice turning from annoyed to angry.

"We have reason to believe that the mind link belongs to Harry Potter, but we can't find the other…The spell worked on the other first, and Potter a day or two later…"

"What is the meaning of that?" the Dark Lord spat.

"Potter was little more than alive at the moment the spell was activated, My Lord…"

*******

Draco's eyes flared open and he sat bolt upright, breathing hard.  His entire body was drenched in sweat, and his long fingers were clenched tensely on the sheets.

_He knows?  _Draco thought feverishly, _How?  What did he do?…_

Sudden, chilling comprehension swept over him.

"No way," he breathed.  "No _way._"

*********

 The next day, the bell that rang for break immensely relieved Hermione.  Slipping into a dark, abandoned classroom, she closed the door part way and slid down against the wall with her head in her arms, finding at last some of the peace, quiet, and solitude for which she had been searching for many days.  Even so, she was beginning to fall apart.  How could she let a little thing like this ruin her for months?

Then the tears came.  Tears from months of pain, frustration, and confusion.  Tears for the two who would never love her.  Tears for the two who did.

She was so absorbed in her self-pity that she never noticed the door open, and the tall, slender figure entering the dark room and coming to a halt right in front of her.

His gaze lingered unfalteringly on the girl who was curled into a ball and sobbing quietly to herself, keeping carefully out of the way of anyone she would possibly bother.  The same one who, two years prior, had slapped him upside the head and called him foul, evil, out of defence for a friend.  Which might've been true, he admitted to himself, back then….

"Hermione," came a whisper from above her head, so softly spoken that she wasn't sure whether she was imagining it or not, let alone who it was.

"Go away," she muttered to no one in particular.

"I have a question to ask you, if that's okay," he said quickly.

"Fine," she answered, her voice muffled.

"How would someone be able to find out about a mind link without asking?"  Hermione started and looked up, wiping tears off her face.

"Well," she began in a shuddering voice, staring up and the cold, pale face that was half shrouded in shadow and struggling to her feet, "it's an immensely complex charm…and it's cast on one person at a time.  If that person is linked to someone, then the other will show the same signs at the same time."

"What signs?"  Draco asked.

"They—they can be anything from headaches, to nausea, to light-headedness, to shortness of breath—"

"Shortness of breath," he repeated, more to himself than to Hermione.

"Yes…" said Hermione, looking curiously at him, "but depending on how it was cast—"

"There's more than one way to cast the charm?"  She nodded.

"It can be done with a wand, but that requires direct contact.  The other is meditation; that can be done from miles away, but in either case it can take many months to take effect and get results…."  She trailed off, catching sight of the look in Draco's eye.

"What is it?" she asked.  "Did something happen?"  Draco glanced at her.

"I don't know," he said finally.  "It's odd.  I keep having these dreams and…"  He bit his lip.  "Voldemort knows about our connection."

"He—he does?"  Hermione faltered.  "How could he know?"  

Draco shook his head.  "Ask Potter.  That's what he's here for.  When Voldemort comes to call, just go to the Boy Who Lived, and he'll save the day."

"That's not funny," Hermione said.  Tears were filling her eyes again, and she did her best to hide them.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, seeing them despite her efforts, trying, and failing to feel sympathy.  "I promise not to make fun of Mr High and Mighty."

"That's not the point," she snapped.  She could feel her face burning and could tell that Draco was watching her intently.

"Does this have something to do with that Chang girl?" he asked.  Hermione looked up quickly.

"What makes you think that?" she said sharply.  Draco merely continued to stare at her.  "Okay, so it does," she finally admitted.  She turned around and leaned against the wall.  "I think that I should apologise," she began, "for being so rude in the past…and thank you for sending Viktor."

This was definitely not what Draco had expected to hear.

"Err—you're welcome.  And forget about the past," he said softly.  "You were standing up for me when Weasley got all hacked off about that whole Draught of the Living Death incident."

"That is an everyday occurrence that I have to get Ron to shut up," she replied, still avoiding his eyes.  "Well, it used to be, at least…"

"Used to be?"  Draco echoed.  "What's up with him?"

"It's not him.  It's…me."

There was a pause.

"Harry too?  What, are you trying to tell me that you're jealous?"

"Yes!" she burst out, slamming her fist against the wall.  "Have you no idea what it's like when your two best friends are the opposite gender and you've fallen for both of them?  Ron pushes me away, and there's something about Harry that I can't place—and they both have girlfriends!  Viktor's not going to last forever….He suggested it himself that we go our separate ways!  Four years is a big margin for me, and I just feel so alone sometimes…"

She moved toward Draco and flung her arms around his neck, catching him off guard.  It was clear that she had been holding all this inside her ever since Christmas.  He patted her awkwardly on the head, and that little pat soon became a hug.

"Hermione, remember back then, when we were all in the hospital wing…" he started hesitantly after a few moments, once her sobs had quieted.

"What about it?" she asked, sniffing.

"After I took my Sleeping Potion…"  He hesitated again.  Hermione tensed.  She knew what was coming.  But how could he have known?…

"…someone kissed me.  I've been wanting to know who it was for some time now."  He paused, a slight smile dawning on his face.  "And I'm willing to bet that it wasn't Weasley or Madam Pomfrey."

"How do you always have this way of finding something obnoxious to say during a serious conversation?" she muttered, still wrapped in Draco's arms. 

"Oh, you thought it was funny, then, did you?" he said, tightening his hold.

"No," she said simply.

"Well, to answer your original question, finding something obnoxious to say in the most obscene of situations just happens to be one of the many qualities that everyone knows and loves about the one and only Draco Malfoy."

"God, you're annoying," she sighed.

"There's another one."

"Why are you being so nice to me?  After all, aren't I just a filthy little Mudblood?"  Hermione said acidly.  She felt Draco stiffen at her words.

"I'm sorry about that.  You know I am," he said softly.  Hermione pulled away from his embrace.

"You're terrible," she whispered, starting for the door, but he grabbed her shoulder.  She came to a stop and said, without turning, "What is it now?"

"You still haven't answered my question yet."

"You haven't asked me anything that I haven't answered," she returned coldly, but regretting it as soon as she said it.

"Was it you?"

Hermione felt as if the ground was falling sharply away.  Gritting her teeth, she decided to play the role of confused curiosity until he forced her to answer, until that tantalizingly slanted gaze overpowered her hopelessly.  

"Was what me?" she asked carefully, turning around to face him defiantly, clenching her fists until her nails dug into her flesh, trying desperately not to throw herself at him.

"Did you kiss me?"

"Kiss you?" she repeated coolly, though she was beginning to feel her composure crack as she dropped her gaze.  So much for confused curiosity.  "Why would I kiss you?"

He stepped closer to her, placed his icy fingers under her chin, and tilted it upward so that their eyes met.  She shuddered, her blood boiling in her veins.

"Was it you?" he said again, staring straight into her eyes, his voice barely above a whisper, which made her feel as if he could see straight into her soul.  Her heart pounded, and she struggled to look away, but some mysterious power from those liquid silver eyes drew not only her eyes to them, but also the truth.

"Yes," she murmured finally, wrenching her gaze away, her composure finally shattering into a thousand pieces.  She heard a sharp intake of breath above her as she hung her head.

"It was you," he repeated softly.  Hermione glanced up in time to see him run his hand through his fair hair with a faraway look in his eyes.  As if he felt her gaze on him, he looked up and met her eyes.  Hermione stared back into the eyes that had always held her spellbound, even the years when she hated him more than anything.  It was all very strange.  From the person she loathed most in the world, he had turned out to be one of the kindest she had ever known.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"Why are you thanking me?"

"That was the nicest gesture that anyone has ever given me.  That's why I asked you to the Christmas Ball…because I thought you loved me."

"I—I do love you, Draco," Hermione said in a rush.  Then she clapped her hand over her mouth.  "I'm sorry."  Her face turned red. 

"Don't be," Draco said softly.  Hermione closed her eyes and moved forward, lifting up her face, and suddenly felt lips cold as death and smooth as marble touch hers.  Draco was taken entirely by surprise, not in a bad way, but nonetheless, surprise.  She winced at the cold, but slowly, they warmed in the deepness of the kiss.  Her heart soared in fierce ecstasy and her soul sang joyfully as Draco returned it.  She didn't want this to end.  She wanted to stay here, with Draco, forever, and ever, and ever…  How could she have ever hated him?

He pulled her closer, savouring every second.  Her lips were soft and warm.  This kind of happiness was sure to be illegal.  His long, slender fingers raked her skin savagely.  He had never known a passion such as this, so fiery, so intense.  This was too good to last….What had he been thinking when he called her a Mudblood?

The kiss became increasingly aggressive, yet it was not only Draco.  In fact, he was quite impressed that she would come off so intimidating.  Maybe it was all from that Bulgarian guy, Viktor Krum.  Hermione wound her arms around his neck, pulling him to her as he tried to pull back for air.  A tiny voice that could have been her conscience screamed at her, _What are you doing?  Isn't this being disloyal to Harry and Ron and Viktor?  Stop!  Stop!  Stop!  _But Hermione ignored it, and a stronger voice that might've been the little devil inside her overrode the first.  _Ha!  It's their own faults!  They could've given you more attention, but no, so you found the one who would…_She continued to seduce him, savagely, as if this were some kind of sweet revenge against the three of them.  Draco was surprised at how vicious she was.

They never heard the bell ring.  Their attention was primarily for each other.  Finally, not knowing how long they had been in that dark, abandoned classroom, they broke apart, gasping for breath.

"That was…interesting," said Draco, staring at Hermione.

"In a good way or a bad way?" she said, slightly flustered.

"That's a tough one."

They walked slowly to the door.

"Do you realise how late we are for class?" he asked.

"Who cares?" she said softly.  Then she shot him a sideways glance.  "Would you mind not mentioning this to anyone?  It might not go well with everyone else…"

"Of course.  My reputation means as much to me as it does to you."

"That's good.  Thank you."

They stopped right next to the door, both very reluctant to leave.

"Same time tomorrow?"  Draco asked at last, though rather hesitantly, breaking the silence.

"We'll have to see," Hermione said uncertainly.  "It might start to get suspicious if I keep disappearing every day at break…" 

"We'll see, then," Draco replied, opening the door.  Before he stepped out into the open, he said, before he could stop himself, "Did I ever tell you that I love you?"

"You didn't need to," she answered, and kissed him on the cheek.  She stepped out of the door and into the hall, squinting in the brighter light of the corridor in comparison to the darkness of the room. 

"See you tomorrow."

***********

"Miss Granger, where have you been?  The lesson began over twenty minutes ago.  Ten points from Gryffindor."

The whole class whipped around as the door to the Transfiguration classroom opened.  Harry's and Ron's mouths sagged, because the Hermione who walked in didn't look like Hermione at all.  Her hair was even bushier than usual, and her face was glowing like the setting sun, though not from embarrassment, and her robes hung loosely from her shoulders.

"I—I'm sorry, Professor.  I…err, I fell asleep," she said, the pink patches on her cheeks glowing even brighter.

"That much," said Professor McGonagall, eyeing her suspiciously, "is evident.  Please be seated."

Hermione crossed the room and sat down next to Ron and Harry.

"So, where _were_ you?"  Ron asked after the lesson, rising from his seat with the rest of the class.  To his and Harry's surprise, a sly smile curled at her lips.

"What would you say if I told you I had been sleeping with Draco?" she asked innocently.

"You were WHAT?!"  Harry and Ron shouted, but then were even more confused when they saw that Hermione had doubled up with laughter at the sight of their horrified faces.

"I'm only joking!" she gasped, hardly able to stand for laughing.

Though still momentarily shocked at the sudden and highly unexpected answer, they were relieved to see that Hermione was in a better mood than the past few months.  Managing a small smile, Ron and Harry picked up their books, heading out of the classroom behind Hermione.  Checking her watch, she looked up at her two tall friends.

"Are you two hungry?  It's lunchtime!"  Without waiting for an answer, she sped down the hall, elated with joy.

Ron and Harry blinked bemusedly and stared at each other.

"What's gotten _into _her?"  Harry muttered.

*********

The month leading up to the Quidditch tournament final seemed to melt away.  Almost immediately, it seemed, it was exactly a week before the match.  Everyone was tense and excited, anticipating what would hopefully be the defeat of Slytherin.  Ravenclaw hadn't won in over ten years, so they were especially eager.

But something happened on the day before the match that gave Harry something else to think about.

"Harry," came a soft voice from the room to his left.  Curiously, Harry pushed the door open the rest of the way.

Draco Malfoy was sitting silently on the desk, his hands folded in his lap, his fine, silvery hair dishevelled.

"What is it, Malfoy?"  Harry asked, stepping over the threshold and closing the door.

Draco gritted his teeth, twisting his hands violently.  How was he going to tell him this?  She had agreed that now would be the best time to unveil their secret relationship, but something was holding him back.  It was either the look on Harry's face, or the longings of his own heart.

"I—" he began, but suddenly, something else came spilling out of his mouth.  "I forgot to tell you something.  It's kind of important."

"Go on," said Harry, raising an eyebrow.  Draco bit his lip.  Harry had never seen Malfoy look this uncomfortable before.

"Voldemort knows about our connection," Draco said, then winced.  _That was _not _what you were supposed to tell him you bloody idiot!_

Harry opened his mouth, then sighed.

"That we can deal with," he said.  "I though you were going to say something that had to do with you and Hermione…"

"What?"  Draco said frantically.

"I'm only joking," Harry assured him, and to Draco's relief, he didn't see him flinch.  "Hermione made this joke a few weeks ago when she was late for Transfiguration.  She said that she had been sleeping with you.  The scary part is, we actually believed her for a moment."

Draco paled, opening and closing his mouth several times before Harry spoke again.

"So how do you know that Voldemort knows this?" he asked, sobering.

"I had another dream a few weeks ago.  He only knows about you, though, because of that Sleeping Potion thing…."

"How did he find out?"

"Some kind of spell.  When you woke up, did you feel like you were suffocating?"

"Yeah."

"So did I.  Right before I broke that window.  I'm guessing that's why Dumbledore put that charm on them."

They were silent for a few moments.  Then Harry said, "How long will it take him to find out about you?"

Draco shrugged.  "Hermione said it can take a few months to get results—"

There was a muffled sound coming from under the desk on which Draco was sitting.

"What was that?"  Harry asked, stepping closer to the desk curiously.

"What was what?" said Draco quickly as he kicked the desk with his swinging legs.  Harry narrowed his eyebrows suspiciously.  "Never mind.  I thought I heard something.  And anyway, why did you ask Hermione—?"

The bell rang.  Draco cleared his throat.

"There's the bell," he said.  "Time for class."

Harry stood his ground.  "Aren't you coming?" he said, starting for the door after a moment.

"No, I…we can't be seen together, remember?  Dumbledore said…"

"Right…see you later."

As the door closed, Hermione stood up from under the desk.

"Why didn't you tell him?" she insisted.  "We agreed that today would be best!"

Draco sighed.  "I know.  I just…didn't want to throw all this away."  He shook his head.  "I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright."  She circled around the desk and sat down next to him.  

"How do you think he'll take it when he finds out?"  Draco asked, slipping his arm around her shoulders.  She leaned close and could hear his heartbeat and his voice, echoing through his chest.

"I don't know," she answered hesitantly.  "Judging by how he acted to it hypothetically, I really can't say."

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see, then, right?" he said.

"Mhhm."

There was a pause.

"I hate to say this," Draco said at last, "but I don't think this is going to work out that well…."

"The majority of teenage relationships don't last," Hermione said matter-of-factly.

"I suppose you're right, but…"

"But what?"

Draco glanced at her.

"What if…someone sees us?"

"No one will see us.  They're all somewhere else."

"But like what you just said, the majority doesn't last…"

Hermione lifted her head and looked into his eyes.

"Couldn't we at least try?" she asked quietly.

He smiled.  "I guess we could…"

Hermione smiled back and pulled him down onto the desk.

*******

"Hey, Hermione, haven't seen you all day.  Where you been?"

Hermione dumped her books down on the nearest chair.

"To lessons…" she answered vaguely, sitting down and tugging at a pillow.  It was nearly ten o'clock, and Ron and Harry finally met Hermione for the first time since lunch.  Though she did have a different schedule than they did, they still had expected to see her in between classes, or at dinner, at least.

Hermione curled up close in her armchair, relaxing by the warmth of the blazing fire of the Gryffindor common room.  She closed her eyes, both emotionally and physically exhausted.  Maybe she should drop a few more subjects….

"Hermione—what's that on your neck?"  Harry asked suddenly, pointing at the spot just visible above her collar.  Her eyes jerked open.

"Oh, this?" she said nervously, running her fingers over the flushed patch of skin.  "That's a…"

"Hermione, is that what I think it is?  Cuz if it is…" Ron began, staring at her.

"Of course it isn't!" she insisted indignantly, her face reddening in embarrassment.  "It must be a bug bite or something…."

"I don't think I've ever seen a bug with jaws that big before," he said, "even here."

"Oh, look at the time," Hermione said lamely.  "I better go up to bed….See you in the morning."  And without another word, she dashed upstairs.

"Where do you get the feeling that she's not telling us everything?"  Harry muttered.

Ron nodded.  "That was the lamest excuse in the book.  A bug bite…real cute.  Well, I guess now that we know _what _she's been doing, just have to find out _who _she's been doing…."

"Oh, that gave me an interesting mental image," Harry griped.  Ron grinned.

"Don't tell me you've never fantasized before," he said.

"Oh, go…stare at something shiny."

"Oooooo…what fun.  Okay, bored now."  He yawned.  "I'm going up to bed.  See you later."

"Night," Harry sighed.

********

"My Lord."

"What is it, Lucius?" 

Lucius Malfoy was edging into the room, which was lit only by the glow of the crackling fire, toward the Dark Lord, who was standing next to a hissing and bubbling cauldron.  Next to him stood his servant, Wormtail, who was nervously adding ingredients to the concoction.

"I regret to say, My Lord, that the boy is now protected against the spell," he said cautiously.

Voldemort smiled.

"Well, then, you know what the solution to that is, do you not?"

Mr Malfoy bowed his head so his face was hidden beneath his black hood and remained silent.

"Be gone with you!"  Voldemort spat, and Lucius backed swiftly out of the room.

Voldemort turned back to Wormtail and peered into the cauldron, which was now frothing and boiling sluggishly.

"Just a few more weeks, Wormtail.  Then we will have our revenge…."

Nagini hissed, adding to the spine-tingling atmosphere of the scene.

"We will be needing more skin from Nagini," he added.  "Though this time, please be sure not to anger her…for she does not forgive easily…"

Wormtail shuddered and started cautiously toward the giant snake, his hands outstretched.  The sleeves of his black robes pulled back, revealing two large, purple welts that were slowly turning green.

"…and she must conserve her strength…"

********

 Harry went down to breakfast the next morning to loud, raucous cheering.  The Ravenclaws were chattering loudly, prepping their team members as they always did before a match.  Cho detached herself from the crowd to greet Harry.

"Hi there!" she beamed, kissing him on the cheek.

"Hello…" he began, staring over her head to search the crowd.  Cho frowned.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"No, I—I need to talk to Hermione and Ron.  And don't worry—" he added, catching the look on her face, "it has nothing to do with you."

Cho sighed.  "Well, I guess you can look after yourself," she said.  "You will be at the game, though, won't you?"

"Of course I will.  Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Cho smiled at him and walked back over to the Ravenclaw table.

Harry found Ron and Hermione and sat down.

"What's up, Harry?"  Ron asked, plucking sausages off the plate in the middle of the table.

Hermione looked up from staring ahead.  Her eyes met Harry's, and he was startled to see that they held fear, confusion, and pain.

"I…had another dream last night."

"You did?" said Ron, startled.  "What happened?"

Harry explained what he saw.  Hermione still had that look in her eyes when he had finished.

"I'm pretty sure that's a Polyjuice Potion that You-Know-Who was making," she said at last.  "I have lost the connection, and Draco told me about his dream…"

"When have you talked to Malfoy?"  Ron interrupted.

"Oh…once or twice in the library," Hermione muttered, blushing.  Harry and Ron left it to that.  Finishing their breakfast, they headed out the doors to the Quidditch pitch with the rest of the school.

"Good luck, Cho!"  Harry called to her.  She grinned as he left the hall.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione found seats in the bleachers.  After about ten minutes, the Slytherin team came out of the locker rooms, most of them clutching Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones.  Malfoy, of course, was still the smallest, but he held the best broom of the lot, a RapidFire3000.  It's fine black finish gleamed in the early morning sun.  

Then came the Ravenclaw team.  Cho was in her Ravenclaw robes, holding with a proud and defiant air her Comet Two Sixty.  She had told Harry that she kept it for good luck; it had once belonged to her grandfather who had played for England, winning the World Cup three times in a row.  He had been Seeker as well.

The crowd cheered as Madam Hooch brought out the crate with the balls.  After releasing them into the air, she blew her whistle and took off.

"And it's Ravenclaw in possession, streaking toward the goals…come on, put it in!  Argh, miss, and the Quaffle goes to Slytherin…."

 The game wasn't all that eventful, compared with the others of Slytherin versus Gryffindor.  It was plain that the Ravenclaw Chasers were much more skilled than the Slytherins, as were the Beaters and Keeper.  The only flaw with the Ravenclaw Seeker, Cho, was that her broom was very slow compared to Malfoy's state-of-the-art RapidFire3000.  She couldn't keep up with him, so she was forced to go around the stadium in order to block him.  By that time, Malfoy had gotten out of the way.

Suddenly, there was a flash of gold, and right behind it, a blur of green.  Malfoy had seen the Snitch, and was following it at top speed.

"And the crowd is on its feet!  Where are those Bludgers when you need them?!  The Slytherin Seeker is gaining, he's going to catch it—"

But Malfoy, who was intent upon catching the Snitch, didn't see the Ravenclaw Beater hit a Bludger towards him with excessive force.  Hitting him square in the chest, Malfoy was flung from him broom.  The ground seemed to be rushing up to greet him a bit faster than usual.  There was a sickening crunch as he collided with the ground, his broom toppling after him.

Laughter erupted from the stands, and a certain Ravenclaw Seeker was doubled over on her broom, gasping for air between peals of laughter.

The Slytherin team all rushed down, crowding around Draco, and Harry could hear him swearing rudely…in a multitude of different languages.  He couldn't help but be impressed at Draco's wide range of vocabulary.

Clutching his chest, Malfoy staggered into a standing position rather theatrically.  Clambering onto his broom like some sort of hero, Malfoy shot back up into the air, nearly knocking the Ravenclaw Beater off his broom in the process.  The cheers from the Slytherin section erupted as the game started up again, not really becoming any faster paced.  Ravenclaw Chasers were flying in circles around the Slytherin team, scoring repeatedly, while the Slytherin's points were still at rock bottom.  The score was two hundred ten to thirty, and Ravenclaw was in possession of the Quaffle.

"If I catch the Snitch right now…the score will be tied…." Malfoy said to himself as his molten silver eyes scanned the Quidditch pitch, calculating the possibilities in his mind.  "We can't possibly win at this rate…."

Suddenly, a flash of gold confirmed his decision.  Streaking down after it, Draco could see Cho pull up, miles behind him.  Urging his broom to go faster, he reached out, his fingers closing around the golden ball.  

There was the sound of a gong, and Malfoy swore inwardly.  Ravenclaw had scored!  He tried to jerk his hand back before he caught it, but his reaction time was too slow.  In his pale hand he clutched the small, glittering ball.

"YES!  I DON'T BELIEVE IT!  SLYTHERIN CATCHES THE SNITCH, BUT RAVENCLAW WINS!  I don't think many of us were expecting that!"

Landing on the ground with a sour scowl on his face, Draco was immediately surrounded by his fellow teammates.  Most of them were grinning stupidly, and thumping their smallest  player on the back.

Draco's scowl deepened as he threw down the Snitch in frustration.  "We lost, you morons!" he burst out rather savagely, turning around and bowling his way through the crowd and away from the pitch.

Ravenclaw had won, though narrowly, at a score of two hundred ten to one hundred eighty.  Everyone, save for the Slytherins, poured out onto the field.  Harry reached Cho and lifted her up onto his shoulders as the crowd cheered wildly….She was handed the enormous silver Quidditch Cup….Through the crowd, Harry caught sight of a bitter Draco Malfoy walking toward the castle, his broomstick on his shoulder, his head bowed dejectedly.  Finally, Ron and Hermione managed to push their way through the teeming crowd toward Harry and Cho.  

"Great job, Cho!"  Ron yelled.  "You really know how to give them hell!"

She smiled and jumped down from Harry's shoulders to rejoin her team.  

"Hey—wait for us!"  Harry and Ron shouted, running after her.

Hermione made sure they were occupied with the Ravenclaws before turning around and walking off.  She had to find him.

He was walking toward the oak front doors, his shoulders slumped, his broom now hanging limply from his nerveless fingers.  She ran to catch up to him and reached out for his shoulder.

"Draco," she said softly.

He turned around, and his forlorn expression cleared considerably when he saw her.

"Hey," he answered.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, but that ground is a lot harder than it looks."

She gave him a small smile.  He returned it weakly, his gaze going past her to stare at the thronging crowd on the Quidditch field.  Harry was just visible, Ron standing next to him.

"When are we going to tell him?"  Draco asked under his breath

"I suppose while he's in a good mood, we could try later this week…."  Hermione said, following his gaze.

"That sucked," Draco muttered abruptly, turning his back on her and trudging up the steps.  Hermione hurried after him.

"What sucked?"

"Besides me, that game."

"You do not suck at Quidditch," Hermione admonished.  "You are almost better than Harry."

"There's that word again.  Almost."

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?  If it came down to how much you practise, then you would be the better player.  For Harry, it comes so naturally that he doesn't need to practise that much.  And maybe it's not you that sucks, it's the rest of your team."

Draco looked at her, then sighed.

"I never wanted to play Quidditch," he said softly.  "It was my father's jealousy that caused me to join the team.  Actually, he made me and assured that I would win if I played on the best racing broom, that skill doesn't matter."

 Hermione followed him in silence, entirely unbelieving.  How could someone's father be so terrible?

"Do you know what I have to do, Hermione?" he asked suddenly, interrupting her thoughts.

"What do you mean?" she said.

"I didn't think you would know," said Draco.  There was some kind of icy bitterness in his voice that Hermione had rarely heard before.  "But you will, when the time comes."

"What are you talking about?"

But Draco did not seem prolonged to elaborate; he left her behind with her very confused thoughts. 

**********

Alright, that officially sucked.  The Quidditch match was by Crissy, so if you've got any complaints about it, yell at her.  That romance was terrible, I know.  Anyway, my estimate for the rest of this story is about three chapters.  And don't worry, all (or most) of your questions will be answered by the end.  For now, when are Hermione and Draco going to tell Harry?  How will Harry take it?  When will Voldemort's plan be put into action?  What's up with that Polyjuice Potion?  How is Alex's and Ron's relationship going to end up?  What is Draco talking about?  And when's Crissy coming?  I think most of these questions will be answered by next chapter, if not, the next.  Well, I guess I owe you people an explanation.  It is official:  Lynn is my friend Sapphire Rose, also known as Lynn; I am Alex (though Ron is not the first one I'd go for, hence author name, but I did find an awfully cute pic of him not too long ago…), and Crissy is, well, Crissy.  And you won't believe this, but when I was writing that really emotional thing that Hermione's going through, I was actually going through something similar without realising it.  Yeah, I fell for my best guy friend, and let me tell you, that is one of the most embarrassing things in the world to happen to someone.   Anyway, now from my tangled love life, I will ask you all one more tiny eensy teensy request.  Will you all do the me a favour by rating this fic so far, or the chapter itself, on a scale from 1* (being the worst fic you've ever read) to 5***** (being the best fic you've ever read), you people know the drill.  I know, this has probably gone down to –5, but oh well.  I promise, next chapter will be better.  Till then, my friends!  J 

 __


	10. The Battlefield (of mind and body)

Hello again.  Now this is where it gets really interesting.  Some questions will be answered, some won't, depending on how this ends up.  (I'm not exactly sure where this is going to end up yet…)  But the good news is, most of this stuff will finally begin to actually make sense.  That's all I've really gotta say for now, so just as a little reminder, PLEASE rate this fic from 1* to 5*****.  Thank you!

**Elena Kyro:  Is it that difficult to believe I'm 13?  Hehehe…*blushes*  Thank you for your support!**

Silent Tears 

Part X:

The Battlefield (of mind and body) **The smell of fear loomed over us like a hauntingly black storm cloud**

**_Raining down its arrow-like droplets of horror._**

**_The feeling of awful cold settles around us_**

**_As we step cautiously over the littered floor,_**

**_Tripping occasionally on the debris that was strewn across out morbid path._**

****

**_I inhale the foul air,_**

**_And choke as it catches in my throat._**

**_The bittersweet taste of blood lingers on my lips_**

**_As I bite down on my tongue for fear that I might scream out._**

****

**_In vengeance we draw our swords of hate and betrayal_**

**_Attacking the root of fear itself,_**

**_Hitting nothing as we swing blindly_**

**_For hope that we might vanquish our assailants;_**

**_The vicious feelings that stem from our very souls._**

**_Unable to do any damage,_**

**_We continue our meaningless fight with ourselves,_**

**_The civil war from within,_**

**_The innermost struggle between our hearts and our minds._**

****

**_The silence of our bloodless battle_**

**_Roars loud in our ears,_**

**_Nearly deafening all of us,_**

**_Like the screams of one in pain._**

****

**_What seems like hours later,_**

**_I stare out onto the desolate plane of defeat_**

**_With eyes of a child beyond her years,_**

**_Pain far past that of her generation,_**

**_For I had seen the battlefield_**

**_Of love._**

**--The Battlefield, by ObSeSsIvE_cOmPuLsIvE_666**

As the saying goes, April showers bring May flowers.  This proved to be true this year at Hogwarts.  Mother Nature had granted sunshine on the important event of the Quidditch final, but now that it had been fulfilled, she went back to her original schedule of rain.  But even the thunderous storms of late April couldn't dampen Harry's and most of the school's high spirits.  Only the Slytherins were as downcast as the weather as a result of their defeat.  The Ravenclaws were in the brightest stage of well being out of the lot.  ****

The relationship of Harry and Cho didn't go unnoticed for much longer.  Soon people were calling them the dream couple of Hogwarts.  The only couple that rivalled them were that of Ron and Alex.  

At the beginning of May, Alex and Michelle brought their fellow Gryffindors some good news.  

"Crissy should be coming by the end of the week!"  they announced at breakfast.  

"I wonder what that surprise is," Michelle asked herself, slightly worried.  "I hope she didn't decide to grow an extra head or something."

"Well, knowing her, it could be something to that extent," Alex said nervously.

The two girls looked at each other, then burst out laughing.

"What's so funny about her?"  Ginny wanted to know.

"Well, she wears black all the time, dragon necklaces, and silver thumb rings," Alex explained, recovering.  "Everyone thinks she's Gothic, but she's not really.  She puts it on to be intimidating, so don't freak out.  I should know, being her best friend and all, because she sucked me into it.  Not that it's a bad thing.  But she's really nice, I mean, how could she have gotten any friends if she wasn't?  Anyway, I was the one that was keeping her somewhat soft.  My ex-boyfriend didn't approve of us, swearing when we broke a nail, coming to school dressed in black everyday.  But he got used to it eventually, and soon, I stopped swearing enough for him to tolerate Crissy's habit."  She pursed her lips, as if recalling a sweet memory, but one that brought her bitter thoughts of pain.  "After a while, he couldn't take it anymore, so we broke up."  She shook her head, and changed the subject slightly.  "I just hope that our other best friend, Lynn, kept her down a bit from getting her tongue pierced."

"She would go _that _far?"  Ron asked, disgusted.  "If she's as much of a crazy girl as you've described, don't be surprised if she ends up in Slytherin."

Alex shrugged.  "I don't think she'll be in there.  She's not like them at all, not cold hearted or anything like that."

"Yeah," Michelle chimed in.  "She wouldn't go that far….Would she?"

Alex grinned and shook her head.

"Not a chance.  She knows I would kill her for it."

"But not before she kills you," Michelle reminded her.

"Oh, stop worrying, alright?  I'm sure it'll be a pleasant surprise…as pleasant as they come around here…."

Michelle snorted.

********

"_Draco…"_

The icy cold voice penetrated his unconscious mind, pushing through the sweet grogginess of sleep until it could be heard.

"_I know you can hear me, Draco, and as your father, I must be able to trust you and communicate with you.  Will you listen?"_

Draco didn't answer, only clenched his fists on his pillow and gritting his teeth, trying to ignore his father's voice, but it was as easy to ignore as hundreds of white-hot needles being inserted into his spine.

"_It doesn't matter, because I know you will.  Even if you can't or refuse to hear me now, this information will haunt you, day by day and night by night, until your instructions are put to use."  
_Draco shuddered, the voice tearing through his mind and soul like thousands of sharp, icy daggers, ripping the flesh of his very being.

"_Now, Draco, we have received intelligence that there is another mind link at Hogwarts, belonging to Harry Potter.  We do not know his partner.  I am entrusting you with this mission, to find  the other.  And soon, very soon, the Dark Lord and his followers will invade Hogwarts, and put this plan into action.  With Potter's mind link partner,  we will be enabled with the ability to kill the boy without much trouble.  As for the invasion, it is merely a diversion.  And you will fight at my side, where no harm will come to you…."_

Draco fought to keep his thoughts at bay, for if he thought anything, anything at all, his father would hear.

"_I am aware that the Dark Lord has been in contact with you.  He has told you about a girl, and a Polyjuice Potion.  Let it be known to you that this girl will be used as bait in case we don't find the partner.  Potter won't be able to resist this…tempting little morsel."_

There was amusement in his cold voice now, and the amusement made it sound as if it had been morphed into shards of icy metal that ran against each other, creating the sound of nails on a chalk board.  Draco winced.

"_Our master is calling for me now, my son, so I must leave our meeting here.  Till we meet again, dear Draco…."_

At last, the voice faded, and he could open his eyes.  The voice of the man he had begun to hate left a ringing sound in his head, as if he had been listening to a thousand gonging bells rather than one who had given him life.  Cold sweat trickled down his face from the effort of keeping in his rage.  Now there was something else that he had to break to Harry: that he was being sent to kill him.  _How _was he going to get through all this?

Deciding that he would worry about it in the morning, Draco rolled over, and waves of irresistible sleep washed over him, clearing his thoughts, as well as his father's.

********

Harry awoke on Saturday morning with an unexplained feeling of dread in his stomach.  There was nothing outside that hinted the cause of his uneasiness; the sun shone through the windows, and it seemed that it would be the first fine day outside since last month.  Shaking his head and trying to reassure himself that he was imagining things, he pulled on his robes and went down to breakfast.

Hermione, Ron, Alex, Ginny, and Michelle were all sitting at the Gryffindor table when he arrived.  Ron and Hermione squeezed together to give him room to sit next to them as they discussed plans for the day.

"How about we go to Hogsmeade?  It's a nice day outside, and we might meet Crissy while we're there," Michelle suggested. "She said she'd be arriving some time today."

"Yes, but we don't know exactly when she's coming, do we?" Alex returned.

"I think both of you are right," interrupted Ron.  "The train comes at intervals throughout the day, so there's a chance that we'll meet her while we're there."

"It's settled then," said Ginny.

"And while I'm thinking about it," Ron said suddenly, turning back to Alex, "do I recall you saying something about an ex-boyfriend?"

Alex looked up, startled.

"You mean Eddie?"  A blush was creeping over her slightly freckled face.  "Uh, yeah…we were dating for about two years…until we had to go to separate high schools…" She was beginning to look extremely uncomfortable.

Ron stared at her for a few seconds.  His face turned red, and he looked as if he were going to explode.

"Look, I'm sorry!" Alex burst out, fuming, after seeing his face.  "I didn't mean to offend you—"

But then, Ron let out a loud laugh.

"I was only joking!" he gasped.  "You really thought that would bother me?  HA!  He's all the way in Illinois, come on, it doesn't matter, love, really!"

He continued to laugh, and Alex frowned, but despite her efforts, a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth at his good humour.

"That was mean!" she pouted, slapping his shoulder playfully.  Ron sniggered, rubbing his shoulder.

"Yes, well, now that we've all had our share of fun, let's go before it gets too late," Hermione said, clearly not listening to the arguments that were taking place.  

Everyone agreed, and they all rose and headed for the exit.

Yes, the April showers did bring May flowers.  Life had burst into full bloom all over the Hogwarts grounds during the rainy weather.  In the air hung the fragrant smells of lavender and lilac.  Various conversations and flirtatious giggling that could only be the product of spring fever could be heard all around them as many other students came outside to enjoy the lovely springtime weather.

The six made their way down the bustling streets of Hogsmeade, each of them talking and laughing playfully. (Yes, more spring fever.)  Suddenly there was a familiar (to Alex and Michelle) shout coming from behind them.

"Yo! Prelling! Miller! Wait for me!" The voice had a deep feminine quality and a cynical edge to it. It belonged to a girl with shortly cropped black hair, glasses and a rather full figure. She was adorned all in black, including black nail polish and a silvery dragon necklace. With a playful grin, she bounded up to her two friends. 

"Finally!  I've been looking for you two _all_ day! Jeez!"

"Sorry," said Alex.  "We weren't expecting you until later…. And nice hair."  

"Whoa…" said the girl.  "Nice accent there, Alex… and thankies!"

Alex grinned, "Thankies?  Wait… never mind, I don't want to know…"

"And who are you?" Ron inquired, looking from one to another.

"Oh, this is Crissy," Michelle answered, after she finished hugging the newcomer, who staggered away, clutching her ribs.  "And Crissy, this is Ron, his sister, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione."

"Alex…is this the stud-muffin guy you were telling me about?"  Crissy asked abruptly, staring, awestruck, at Ron.   "Cuz he's pretty damn hot!" 

Ron looked flattered, and rather taken aback at her bluntness. "Sure am!" he answered, grinning now, without a trace of embarrassment.

"CRISSY!" Alex shouted, clomping her friend over the head.  "He's mine!"

Crissy rubbed her head, grinning sheepishly.  "So? Your point?"

Instantly, Michelle interrupted so as to keep the two from ripping each other's throats out.  "So Crissy," she said loudly. "What house were you Sorted into?"

Crissy stopped in mid-lunge. "Err… Slytherin I think…" She looked thoughtful for a moment.  "Yup, Slytherin.  Wanna go to lunch?"  Then she noticed that all six of her friends were goggling at her, lost for words.  "What?  It's a pretty cool-lookin' crowd from what I could tell."

"Crissy," Michelle said faintly, "do you realise that you are now considered our mortal enemy?"

Crissy shrugged, a grin creeping across her features.  "Cool, now I have a reason to tease you without feeling guilty Alex…" There was a silent pause.  "Wanna go to lunch?" she repeated, not a bit fazed by their reactions.

Alex shrugged, taking Ron by the arm and following Crissy towards the village.  "Sure, I don't see why not."

Ron smiled and bent over, kissing her tenderly.

"Whoa!"  Crissy roared, turning around at the slight smacking sound.  "When you go for it, Alex, you sure go for it!"

The happy couple broke apart, grinning embarrassedly.

"You really know how to ruin a moment, you know that, Crissy?" Alex grumbled, scuffing the ground with her foot.

Crissy grinned obnoxiously, nearly skipping forward again.  "What are best friends for?"  Alex rolled her eyes.

After a wonderful day at Hogsmeade, they headed back to the Great Hall for dinner.

"You do realise that we can't sit together at dinner don't you?" Michelle asked upon entering the dining place. "You know, cuz we're in different Houses and all now."

Crissy frowned, "Damn… Where do I sit then?"

Alex gestured towards the Slytherin table, wrinkling her nose. "There…"

Suddenly Crissy perked up, her eyes shining mischievously.  "Hey, who's that?" she asked interestedly, pointing a black-taloned finger at none other than Draco Malfoy, who was currently sitting next to Crabbe and Goyle, unaware of the danger that lurked behind him in the form of a rabid, boy-crazy American girl [that happened to be quite attractive ^_~ *grins innocently* Jessica coughs violently in the background].

Ron suddenly burst out laughing, completely overwhelmed by the prospect of Draco being swooned over by this obnoxious American.

Alex raised her eyebrows, "That's Draco. Draco Malfoy." She sounded disgusted that Crissy could have taken a liking to him.

"Suddenly the idea of sitting over there doesn't seem so bad…" Crissy said, grinning slyly, "Well, I'll be seeing ya…" With that, she bounded over to the Slytherin table, pushed Goyle aside, and plopping down next to the highly surprised Draco.

Harry grinned, hearing Draco ask, "And who are you?"

"I'm Crissy… And you're going to show me around the school…preferably the dorms," Crissy added, her eyes alight with mischief, more demanding than asking.

Draco looked terrified at the very idea, but knew better than to argue, for she had a rather possessive gleam in her eye… not to mention a set of very sharp, deadly looking nails.

Alex coughed rather loudly, rolling her eyes and snorting. "Hang on a minute guys, I gotta go to the bathroom… on little girl business."

"To much information!" Michelle groaned, sitting down at the Gryffindor table, looking disgusted as Ron leaned over and kissed her again.

"See you love," he said, sitting down also.

**********

Alex pushed open the door from the girl's bathroom and walked back out into the hall.  She was almost back to the Great Hall when a flash of light caught her eye.  It seemed rather familiar….

Following the flash, she rounded a corner just in time to see a bald tail slip into a broom closet.  Curiously, she pushed open the door and peered through, searching for what she was certain would be there.

"Hello?" she ventured, stepping into the room.  

But this proved to be a big mistake. 

A short man with grey hair and beady black eyes stepped from the shadows.  Alex had just enough time to register the fact that this man had a silver arm before—

"Just the girl I wanted to see…just the very girl…." He raised the arm, taking a step closer.

"Get away from me!" Alex screamed, backing away.  She turned around and made to fling open the door, but only to find that it had swung shut and locked while the man had her attention.  Whipping back around, her face came inches from the man's outstretched fingers, a mad yet fearful gleam in his eyes. 

"_Sonoris!_" 

Dust flew out of the fingers, drifting over her, and she knew no more as she fell, limp, to the ground.

"Yes, my child, sleep.  It will all be better in the morning…" He laughed manically, ecstatic that he had finally done something right.  He then pointed his fingers at the door and muttered strange words.  A fireball burst forth.

"Take this message to My Lord.  Tell him that he may attack when ready…Now go!" he commanded, and the ball of light instantly took flight through the closed door.

*******

"Where is she?" Ron asked, staring at the entrance to the Great Hall.  "She's been gone for almost half an hour.  That 'little girl' business can't take that long, can it?"

"What, can't stand a second away from your lover?" Hermione said, somewhat scathingly.  But Ron didn't hear her, because at that second, Alex burst through the doors, looking confused.  Her eyes roved the room and spotted Ron.  She walked over to him and sat down without a word.

"You okay?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.  Alex started and looked up and met his eyes.

It was in that second that it happened.  Ron saw, quite clearly, something that he had never seen before.  It was hard to explain, but it came like a storm, beating against his eyes as if not wanting to be seen.  It roared in his ears, screaming like one in pain, who was constantly in torture, unable to make his own decisions.  One that was being controlled against his will…a slave of darkness. 

"What's up Ron?" Harry asked, jolting his best friend back to reality.  "I know you think Alex is hot and all, but haven't you made your point?"

"Wh—huh?" he said, shaking his head. 

"You were staring at her, as if you had only just seen her," Michelle said quietly, sensing something wrong with her friend's boyfriend.  Alex shrugged and lifted the spoon of the nearest dish.  But as she lifted it to her plate, the metal twisted beneath her fingers as if it were made of rubber.

"Whoa!" Ginny exclaimed.  "How'd you do that, Alex?"

"Oh, that?  I—uh, that was…I have no idea," she finished lamely, her voice rather higher than usual.

"Look, you sure you're okay?" Ron asked, but he avoided her eyes.

"Me?  Never better."  Her eyes strayed toward the doors that lead outside.

Just then, as if she had been expecting it to happen all along, the large oak doors burst wide open, followed by the entrance of dozens of men in black cloaks, their wands raised high.

"Death Eaters!" Harry gasped, though his cry went unheard.  The sudden tidal wave of curses that followed drowned out his words, and even his thoughts.

"You three!  Get up to the dorms!" Ron yelled to Alex, Michelle, and Ginny.  They stood up and headed toward the doors.  But just then, a curse flew through the group, striking Michelle, and she hit the floor.

"Michelle!" Ginny screamed, starting to help her friend, but Alex stopped her.  

"It's okay," she said.  "Follow me.  I know a safe place to hide."

Alex took her by the hand and led her out of the Great Hall, to the grounds bathed in moonlight.

"Hurry!  We don't want them following us."  

Ginny sensed something odd going on, but she trusted her friend, even though she noticed that no one looked twice at them as they headed toward—

"The Forbidden Forest?" Ginny asked, bewildered.  "We're hardly going to be any safer in there!"

"Trust me," Alex insisted, and led her through the trees.

************

"Harry!  Where are Ginny and Alex?" Ron hollered, shooting a curse at a Death Eater at the same time.

"I don't know!  I thought I saw them go outside—" He stopped and paled.  "I'll go after them!  There are probably more Death Eaters outside!"

Ron was about to reply when he heard a strangled yell from the other side of the Hall.  He saw Fred go down with a slight thud, then George, leaping up, nearly strangling the Death Eater who had attacked.

"I'm going to help George!" Ron yelled to Harry and Hermione, who was ushering some terrified first years out of the Hall.

"I'm going!" Harry called again, but was accosted by at least five Death Eaters. They moved apart, and he saw—

"Draco," he murmured.  Draco returned his gaze steadily, and from his robes, he drew a long sword.

Harry went numb.  He had no idea how to swordfight.  But the thing that really hit him was that Draco was attempting to fight him.

"Malfoy," he began, "what—?"

_Shut up, you moron, _Malfoy said.  _I'm still on your side, all right?  Just go with this.  My father put a curse on me, so I can't betray him…openly.  He sent me on a mission to find your mind link partner.  He doesn't know it's me._

Harry nodded, but thought, _I don't know how to fight, though._

_Calm down, all right?  I'll help you.  Trust me._

He handed Harry a sword that was similar to his own.

_You ready? _he asked.

_Yeah._

They bowed to each other, and then the fight began.

Clash, clash, clash.  The sound of metal on metal rang through their ears as Draco shouted directions through telepathy.

Harry began to act on his own, finally getting used to the movements.  Left, right, feint, stab…

Malfoy, surprised at his sudden show of skill, began to show off himself. The fighting continued on for some time, causing the Death Eaters to become bored with the flashy show of skill. Many had left to go occupy themselves with other victims, and the ones left were gradually leaving.  Harry felt the ecstasy of the fight flowing through his veins, and to his own horror, he began to get carried away in the lust of battle.  

Draco, sensing this change, tried to yell out to him in telepathy, but his momentary lapse of defence proved to be fatal.  With a gasp of pain, he fell to his knees, Harry's fancy sword sinking out of sight through his shoulder.

"Draco!" Harry shouted, his eyes wide.  He wrenched the sword back, but too late.  "Draco, I – I'm so sorry!"

Draco gritted his teeth in pain.  _Shut up…_he hissed, clutching his wound.  Blood was beginning to seep through his fingers.

Kneeling down next to the pale, silver haired boy, Harry thrust the bloodstained sword aside and tried his best to stop the bleeding, but Draco only pushed him away feebly.   

_You can't be seen talking to me_, he hissed again.

"Wha—?" Harry asked, blinking.

_We don't know who's listening.  If you're seen helping me, you'll blow my cover.  Get lost._

Reluctantly, Harry got to his feet.

_Before you go, I have something to tell you._

_What is it?_

_Wormtail's taken the Polyjuice Potion.  He's already kidnapped the girl._

Harry could feel his face drain of even more colour.  This girl was kidnapped, and he didn't even know whom to look for.  It couldn't get much worse than this.

_You will be here when I get back, won't you?_  

Draco looked at him through some kind of mist, trying to look sarcastic despite his pain.

_Does it really look like I'm going to stand up and run a mile?_ he spat.  As he spoke, his eyes went in and out of focus.

Harry grinned awkwardly, trying to lighten the situation.

_You must be feeling okay if your insults are still at the ready_, _Dra—_ he began, but suddenly, his head might have exploded.  

It was unrecognisable, definitely not a scar pain.  This pain was far beyond anything he had ever felt, blinding him, scorching his soul.  If it hadn't been for his sheer determination, he would have fallen on his knees.  He heard Draco gasp in pain below him, but luckily, this was most likely mistaken for his wounded shoulder.  Then he remembered…

_Voldemort can hear us!  _Harry said frantically.  

Exactly, which is why you should stop talking to me and go! But— 

_Listen, you've got to go and do your hero thing, what you're good at!  I'll be fine…_

Harry stopped, staring at him. 

_Stop being noble, _Draco said irritably.  _Get lost._

But I— 

_"Go!_" Draco hissed with his dying breath.  "Go…" And he slumped back down on the floor.

*********

"This way!  Come on!" Alex shouted, pulling Ginny behind her.

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" she asked, ducking under a low hanging tree branch.

"Of course I'm sure—" 

But she was cut off, because the ground suddenly gave way.  Ginny screamed, clinging to Alex, but she was as cool as if she had been expecting this all along.

They both landed on the ground with a thud.  They were thrown into darkness as the opening above them closed with the creaking and rustling of roots and leaves.

"_Lumos_," Ginny muttered, lighting her wand.  She raised it high, looking for Alex.  The light from her wand illuminated a huddled figure on the floor.

"Alex!" Ginny cried, running to her friend.  "Are you okay?"

She helped her to her feet. Ginny was startled to notice that her face was glistening with sweat.

"What's wrong?" she asked worriedly.

Alex shook her head.  "I'll be okay," she said.  "Just help me walk."  Ginny nodded.

The going was tough.  The tunnel ahead twisted and turned, making Ginny dizzy.  Maybe it was just her imagination, but the farther she walked, the heavier Alex seemed to get.

They were just turning a corner when Alex collapsed with a groan.

"What is it?" Ginny asked, kneeling down to help her.  But she quickly drew back with a gasp.

Alex Prelling was no longer lying on the floor.  A man, with balding white hair, had taken her place.  The man groaned and rolled over, revealing a silver arm.

"Who are you?" Ginny demanded, stepping back farther.  The man rose unsteadily to his feet.

"I," he said in a shuddering breath, "am Peter Pettigrew."

"Peter Pettigrew?" Ginny repeated quizzically, after a slight pause.  "But Peter Pettigrew's—" 

"_Stupefy!_"  Strong red light burst forth from his shining fingers, and Ginny dropped to the floor.

******* 

"Hermione!" Harry cried as Draco fell to the floor.  "Hermione, help me!"

Hermione pushed her way through the swarming crowd of students and Death Eaters, among them Crissy, who was saying to a Death Eater, "Damn, you ugly…" before forced to dodge the curse thrown at her thereafter.

"Oh, my—" she gasped, her eyes widening in shock.  She dropped to her knees next to Draco.

"I…we were sword fighting, and I…accidentally stabbed him," Harry explained, shamefacedly lowering his eyes.  When he looked up, Hermione had her fingers pressed against Draco's neck, obviously feeling for a lifebeat.

"He's still alive, Harry," she said softly, "but he won't be for long if we don't help him.  I think he's just gone into shock or something…."

"Listen," Harry said.  "Alex and Ginny are missing.  Take care of Draco while I go and find them.  Get him out of here…."

Hermione looked up, startled.  "Alex and Ginny are missing?  Michelle is still here, and so is Crissy.  Why didn't they go with them?"

"I don't know," Harry muttered. "That's why I'm worried.  Ron said he saw the two of them go outside.  There might be more Death Eaters waiting."

He glanced back down at her and watched as she smoothed Draco's fair hair away from his eyes with a loving gesture, her expression sad.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Harry asked.

"What?  Oh, yes, I'm fine.  You go and help Ginny and Alex—"

"Right."

*********

"Michelle…are you alright?" Ron asked, helping her to her feet.  

It was then that it hit him—nearly an hour ago, when he had looked into Alex's eyes, he _had _been seeing her for the first time.  But it was different, because he had seen—

"Her soul," he muttered.  But it wasn't _her _soul, it had been someone else's, someone cold, cruel, driven by greed.  The Alex he knew was warm, generous, and kind.  Then he remembered….

"The Polyjuice Potion in Harry's dream!  Pettigrew with Alex!  Of course!  That wasn't Alex, that was _Pettigrew—_" His excitement suddenly turned to dread.  "Ginny," he murmured, and ran to Harry, leaving Michelle standing alone, confused.

"Harry!" Ron called.  He ran to catch up to him just as he was about to walk through the doors.  "Remember at dinner, when Alex came back from the bathroom?"

"Yeah…" Harry said slowly, wondering where this was leading.

"I saw her soul!  Except that it wasn't hers, it was someone else's!  Do you follow me?"

Harry frowned, thinking hard.  Then it dawned on him.

"You mean," he said hoarsely, "that was—?"  

Ron nodded.

"V.W…," Harry said.

"Virginia Weasley."  Ron's face was grim.

"That means Alex is somewhere in the school still," Harry said, "probably somewhere near the girls' bathroom.  Go and find her, okay?"

"Let _me _go find Ginny, she's my sister!"

"I'll deal with Pettigrew."

"But You-Know-Who's probably with him—"

"I'll be alright.  I promise.  And I'll bring Ginny back with me."

Ron bit his lip, though gazed at him steadily.  "Okay, Harry.  I'll find Alex, and you find Ginny." 

*********

HA!  That sucked.  Oh well, next chapter will be much better, now that the obvious is over with.  Oi vey.  If you have any questions about how this screwed up plot is supposed to work, please let me know and I will get back to you with the answer.  For that poem at the beginning, me and Crissy both would appreciate it greatly if you reviewed for that separately under ObSeSsIvE_cOmPuLsIvE_666.  She has it posted under her pen name.  Don't forget, review, review, review!!!  For all those people out there who loath *Nsync, I saw this fic on them that got over 150 reviews, so if she can do it, so can I.  Please don't let me fall inferior to the evil Pretty Boys!  NEVER!!!  I WILL NOT SURRENDER!!!!  k, I'm done.  –J L


	11. Fire and Ice

"SEX, DRUGS, AND BEER!!!!!" shouted Snape.

Good, now that I have your attention, I can begin my more important rantings.  Jeez, last time I looked, I only had 51 reviews, then I look again, and nearly fall off my chair—cuz I'm at 61!!!  I feel so special…*dances* Hey, whoever gets it up to 100 will get something special…my next fic done in their honour!!!  And let me tell you, _that _is special.  You know why?  BECAUSE IT'S GONNA BE A SEQUEL!!!!!!!  Yeah, and you thought the insanity would end with this, didn't-cha?  HA!  Shows what you know!!!  I LOVE REVIEWS!!!!  *hint hint…huggles reviewers* 

Ron Luvr:  Erm, sorry, but this chap will have a WHOLE LOTTA R/A snogging.  It's a payback from Crissy for doing the whole D/Hm thing (note: Crissy is grinning evilly in the background, which has suspiciously turned a foreboding black colour…).  Actually, it's really a cross between snogging and…whatever comes next.  Maybe I should higher the rating a bit…o.O; 

Silent Tears

Part XI:

Fire and Ice

Barrelling through the undergrowth, Harry pushed his way past the trees and branches that stood defiantly in front of him, ominously barring his path like some sort of grim guard of honour.  Silver moonlight flitted its way through the canopy above, its cold radiance lighting his way to a fate unknown.  Peering through the darkness, he searched for a telltale sign pointing the way to Ginny—and Voldemort.

Stumbling over the uneven terrain, he came to a staggering halt, peering through the thick trees, his senses alerted.  Something was wrong.  Very wrong.  The ground didn't feel right; it was almost like it wasn't solid.  Pondering this, he took another step—and tripped over a protruding tree root.

Swearing colourfully as he landed face-first in the colourful bed of dead, scattered leaves, Harry flung out his arms to break his fall.

_Thud._

He fell to the ground, and suddenly, the ground lurched and swayed.  Harry got unsteadily to his feet as they rocked back and forth as if the earth was being ripped open under his very feet.

Then, the ground finally split.  Harry tumbled down the hole among a multitude of leaves and twigs, landing heavily on the dirt floor below.   

For a few moments, Harry laid there, all the wind knocked out of him from the fall.  He watched as the opening above him folded neatly back together, throwing him into darkness.

After the creaking of the unknown structure had quieted, Harry groped blindly for his wand, lit it, and tried to regain his breath.  Breathing heavily, he looked around his at new surroundings.

He was in a tunnel constructed of wet dirt.  Roots from surrounding trees poked their way through at the crumbling walls.  Where was he?  This passage definitely wasn't marked on the Marauder's Map, yet its many twists and turns were not unlike the one leading to the cellar of Honeydukes. 

He got slowly to his feet and brushed twigs and leaves off his robes.  Raising his wand high, he examined the tunnel more closely.  In front of him, there was a path, dark and dismal, leading forward.  He looked into it uncertainly.  Should he follow it?  Turning around, he glanced back over his shoulder.  There was no alternative.  Taking a deep breath, he plunged ahead into the unknown.

********

Gasping for breath at the unaccustomed exertion of energy, Ron ran as fast as he could through the crowd, dodging around battling and fleeing students, skirting his way past Death Eaters, narrowly avoiding deadly curses, vaulting the tables….

He finally managed to escape into the Entrance Hall.  Not daring to slow down or waste time, he took the most direct route to the girls' bathroom.  Turning a corridor, he noticed something rather odd—the floor was charred black, a long streak running from a broken window and down the hall.

Ron followed the long black stripe at a run, desperate not to waste more time.  Who knows what Pettigrew could have done to her…?

Panting, a sharp pain in his side, the charred stripe lead him to a broom closet—except that the door had been shattered, burned away.  Knocking aside the scattered remains of the wooden door, Ron bent down and sorted through the rubble until he found what he was looking for.

"Alex!" he breathed, crouching down and gently lifting her head from the floor.  Her face was ashen, her breathing slow.  Carefully, Ron lifted her off the ground and supported her on his knee while he fumbled for his wand.

"_Ennervate,"_ he whispered.  Alex's chocolate brown eyes fluttered open and fixed bemusedly on Ron.  Then she sat bolt upright.

"Ron!  Oh, Ron, I'm so sorry!  I—I know I shouldn't've followed him, but my curiosity got the better of me, even though I _knew _it was him—and he overpowered me!  There wasn't anything I could do!  Is Ginny all right?  Have you found her?  Where—"

'Alex…relax."  He rested his hand comfortingly on her shoulder.  "Everything's going to be fine.  No, we haven't found Ginny, but Harry's looking for her.  With luck, he should catch Wormtail as well."

She swallowed, but couldn't bring herself to look into his eyes.  Sensing this, Ron placed his fingers lovingly under her chin and lifted her face.

"Alex," he said sternly, "no matter what happens, it's not your fault.  You made an extremely innocent mistake.  There's no harm in being curious."  He ran his thumb over her soft lips.  "Now let's get you out of here.  You'll be safer in your dorm."  She sighed and nodded, lowering her eyes, and Ron helped her to her feet.

Soon they were walking along the hall that led directly to the Great Hall.  They tried to climb the marble staircase quickly, as this was an extremely vulnerable position to be in, but they heard a cry that reverberated on the walls.

"You there!  Stop!"

They whirled around to see three Death Eaters at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at them, their wands pointed upward.  Without hesitation, Ron and Alex sprinted the rest of the way up the stairs.  They heard all three Death Eaters utter a curse, and the next moment, a loud explosion followed by a burst of bright light.  The ball of light raced up the stairs after them and met its target.

With a horrendous cry of pain, Alex collapsed to the floor, writhing in agony.  The back of her robes was singed, and Ron caught the acrid smell of burnt flesh.  He thought of helping her, but revenge was the first thing on his mind.  Rage such that as he had never felt in his life coursed through his body like deadly poison, intoxicating him, impairing his judgement.  Before he knew what he was doing, he whipped out his wand and screamed the first spell that came to mind.

"_Expecto patronum!"_

Something vast and silvery burst from his wand and charged at the Death Eaters.  There was a muffled cry of surprise, then the sound of scurrying feet.  Ron saw nothing of this, because he had fallen on his knees at Alex's side.

"Ron…" Her eyes were sliding in and out of focus.

"Shh…stay still.  Can you stand?"

"I…don't know," she murmured, her breathing coming in small gasps.

"It's okay.  I'll get you upstairs…."

Taking her arm, she slowly rose to her feet and leaned on him, taking it one step at a time. 

*********

"Draco…wake up," Hermione pleaded, stroking his cheek with a gentle touch.  Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a flicker of light coming from the marble staircase, but just as she was about to stand up to take a look, Draco's eyes fluttered open, his quicksilver gaze faltering slightly.

"Where…where's Harry?  Did he go…?"  He tried to sit up, but Hermione put a hand on his chest, forcing him back down.  His shoulder was still bleeding, and his robes stuck to the wound, forming a crude bandage.

"Draco!  Oh, I was so worried…." She bent to kiss him, but he pushed her gently away.

"No, Hermione.  I think…I think that we should stop this."

She blinked.  "But…why?"

Draco gritted his teeth from the pain in his shoulder and the pain in his heart.  "We are forced to live a lie.  This isn't how it should be.  When you love someone, you should be able to tell people without worrying about what they think."

"But we could tell people…."

"Hermione, what do you think people would say if they knew we loved each other?"

 "Does it really matter?"

Draco sighed.  "Hermione, I think this is the end."

Hermione bit her lip.  "Okay Draco.  But could we just have one more kiss?"

A smile creased his smooth features.  "One more kiss."

She lowered her face to his and felt the familiar coldness on her lips.  Just as she was beginning to enjoy the familiar feeling of his mouth against hers, sudden footsteps alerted them, and they broke apart.  Looking up, the cold face of Lucius Malfoy leered in front of Draco and Hermione.

***********

He was coming to the end of the tunnel when he heard voices and saw a flickering of light.  He felt a chill twist in his bowels as he recognised both of them: the high cold voice, and the timid whimper.  Creeping closer, he heard the sound of someone struggling, and the hissing of a snake.  The words were indistinguishable, but he heard a sharp spell uttered, then screams of unbearable pain.

His hands began to sweat.  For the past half hour, his scar had become increasingly painful.  He knew what he faced.  Unbearable pain, either physically or emotionally.  Death was probable.  But nothing could measure up to what he felt, deep inside his heart.  The knowledge that he was being lured into a trap, the blind rage at the man who had destroyed so many lives.  His heart pounded against his ribcage like a trapped bird, beating its wings heedlessly within its prison, knowing that escape was impossible, death inevitable.  

Taking a deep breath, hoping, hopelessly, to calm his quaking nerves, he marched forward, head held high in defiance, walking proudly to what might be his doom.

A glowing orb that hovered in mid air near the dirt ceiling dimly lighted the chamber in which he entered.  It cast a silvery pall over the scene, etching eerie shadows on the walls.  Two figures were standing in the centre; another tied to a post and appeared limp against the bonds leaned against the side of the room where roots poked through like long, deadly fingers as though itching to drag unwilling persons down with them to feast on their warm flesh.  Harry was reminded forcibly of the ancient witch burnings, except that there was no fire.

Sensing his arrival, the taller figure turned.  Harry's scar seared again, but he bore the pain unflinchingly, keeping his face impassive of all emotion.  Then the voice was heard, speaking from the depths of the dark hood.

"How nice to see you again…Harry Potter."  Fathomless red eyes glittered as the high, icy voice spoke.  "I see you have decided to join your friend's sister and me for a little game that I like to call…search and destroy."  Harry shivered inwardly, but took care not to let his face betray his thoughts, not taking his eyes off the man whom stood before him.  He returned the pitiless gaze coldly, determinedly, waiting for what he knew he couldn't prevent.

Voldemort advanced, his wand raised, but Harry stood his ground.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wormtail watching them nervously, and the figure that was bound against the wall.  He didn't need to see her face to know who she was.    

"You're pathetic," Harry spat, without being able to stop himself, his voice quaking with inexpressible rage.  "To have to capture an innocent girl in order to kill a child, just because you couldn't kill him in the first place.  If you really were the almighty, terrifying Dark Lord, then you would've killed me by now.  You know that?  You're so pathetic that you have to kill someone, what, fifty years younger than you, just to prove how powerful you are."  Harry shook his head in disgust; then plunged recklessly forward.  "And I was actually beginning to fear you."  This verbal assault caught even Harry entirely by surprise.  It must have come from hanging around Draco so much.  But he didn't care that Voldemort's eyes had narrowed to furious slits of ruby red rage.  He raised the wand…then stopped.

"No…" he said.  He turned around and walked toward the girl with flaming red hair….

Ginny lifted her head and stared at Voldemort with wide, pleading brown eyes.  But as her gaze registered the fact that Harry was standing there, her face relaxed somewhat, and she instead looked at Voldemort with nothing short of loathing as he raised his wand again.

"_Crucio!_"  

Ginny screamed as if in the most horrible, gut-wrenching agony imaginable.  Her voice filled Harry's ears until he was able to bear it no longer.  Pulling out his wand, he yelled, "_Stupefy!_"  The spell was aimed directly toward Voldemort, but, just as it was about to hit him full force in the back, the brilliant red light fizzed away into nothingness.

Harry gaped at the Dark Lord.  How was this possible?  Well, at least the spell did one good thing:  Voldemort had lifted the curse from Ginny and had now turned around to face Harry instead.

"Your weak little curse isn't going to do much against me, Potter," Voldemort said softly.  "However, there's still another small score I need to settle with you…."

He strode across to Harry and grabbed him roughly by the arm.  Thrusting the point of his wand into Harry's throat, he hissed, "_Communo reveela!_" 

**********

The girls' dorm was cloaked in the semi-darkness of twilight, and silence hung heavy in the air. All but laying Alex down on her bed, he walked back around her to examine her wound. "You're hurt pretty bad…" he murmured, pulling his wand out of his pocket. "It's too early to go to the hospital wing, it might be still dangerous. I think I can heal it, but…"

"But what?" Alex prodded anxiously; wincing slightly as the coarse fabric of her burnt shirt brushed over her scorched skin.

"But," Ron started again, blushing a bright crimson. "Err… you'll have to take off your shirt…"

"What?  No!" she nearly shouted in surprise, almost falling off the bed.

Ron grinned sheepishly, catching her arm. "It's easier to heal it if you do!"

Alex looked suspicious. "Really now? And what would you do if I didn't?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" he asked, his sapphire eyes sparkling mischievously.

Alex rolled her eyes, shaking her head slightly. "Okay…" She raised her arms ever so slowly, and began to carefully lift the charred fabric over her wound. Grimacing, she stopped, letting it fall back down. "It hurts…" she whispered, her hands dropping to her sides.

"Here," Ron offered, his voice soft and caring. "Let me help you…" Leaning over, he gently slid his hands under her shirt, making sure the fabric didn't brush over her charred skin as he pulled it over her head.

The whispered words of a healing incantation drifted towards her, and she could feel the tip of his wand brushing gently across her back.  Almost instantly, she could feel the pain ebbing away and a warm tingling sensation in its place. She shuddered slightly, but not in a bad way…

He could feel her small frame shiver underneath his touch, but he was almost certain that the shiver wasn't of fear…

She turned her head, her velvety dark hair shrouding her fair face in silky shadows, but a devious smile playing on her peach-coloured lips could be seen.

Ron smiled also, sitting on the corner of the bed next to her, his fingers gently brushing the mahogany coloured hair out of her deep brown eyes. Leaning forward, his lips found hers and held them in a warm embrace.

Alex gave a moan as though to say something, and Ron hesitantly pulled back, watching her affectionately, their faces still very close.

"Hmm?" he asked softly.

"Nothing, just…" She grinned cunningly again. "If only Eddie were here…I'd tell him to eat his heart out!"

Ron laughed, but this time it was Alex's turn to lean forward. Her hands trailed across Ron's back before linking her fingers around his neck, pulling him down on top of her as she lay back down onto the scarlet sheets.

Ron put out his arms to stop himself from crushing Alex by lying on her, his auburn hair messy and his ocean coloured eyes alight with ecstasy.

She giggled again, lifting herself up on her elbows and awaiting Ron's soft kiss… she didn't have to wait long.

His mouth pressed gently against hers, his tongue brushing across her upper lip, to which she immediately opened her mouth allowing it entrance. Her hands once again found his back, but this time underneath his shirt. Trailing the tips of her fingers across his spine, she could feel him shiver in delight, a deep growl emitting from his throat to go with her soft moan. His fingers found the edge of her lacy bra, tickling her ribs.

She pressed up against him, her nails ripping rather savagely at his back. She could hear him hiss in pain, one of his hands now trailing towards her back, the other sliding its way to between their bodies. Suddenly the clasp of her bra was unfastened and she looked up at Ron, who was grinning innocently. 

"C'mere!" she hissed, pulling his shirt over his head, exposing his slightly muscled chest. Running her hands first across his chest then to his back, she could hear him groan in pleasure at the closeness of her body against his. She laughed, her fingers tangling in his hair, and her back arched, his kisses landing across her collarbone… and beyond. When he pulled back and locked her in a kiss again, she returned it with even more ferocity than she had before. Biting down on his lower lip, she relished in the feel of his ragged breath on her cheeks, in her mouth…

The pain came as a jolt of fire… and he loved it. Suddenly a thought occurred to him and he pulled back from her momentarily, sitting up. She was lying back on the bed, breathing hard, her eyes burning with devotion and euphoria. 

Reaching up, he pulled the curtains to the four-poster bed closed, throwing them into a wonderful, welcome darkness. Her moans and nervous giggles, his ragged breathing and deep-throated groans of pleasure were the only sounds to be heard in the small room.

*************

"I'm sorry to break up this nice little party," Lucius sneered, eyeing his son maliciously.  "But you do seem to choose interesting company these days, Draco.  Kissing a Mudblood…. What's next, declaring that Harry Potter is your greatest companion?"  Draco's cheekbones burned a dark red.  Hermione could almost feel the heat radiating from his body in his rage.  

"I hate to disappoint you, Father, but you are wrong about Hermione.  She is not a Mudblood."  Draco's voice was as icy as the winter night, pulling out random ideas. Lucius's eyes narrowed.

"Indeed?  But be that as it may, she is still a Gryffindor, and therefore, the enemy."  His eyes glittered dangerously.  "And Draco, shouldn't you be doing your job instead of molesting a Gryffindor?  Shame…I will have to bring this matter before the Dark Lord.  Now get up."  Before Draco could protest, Lucius seized his upper arm and yanked him up to his feet.  Draco gasped from the sudden, stabbing pain in his shoulder, which had begun to bleed again.  He grasped it with his right hand, and his father saw. 

"What is it, boy?" he snarled impatiently.  Before Draco could answer, Lucius spotted the dark red liquid on his left shoulder that seeped from beneath his fingers, narrowly missing his heart.  "Oh, for the love of God!" he raged, pulling out his wand.  With a swift word of magic, the wound healed.  Draco was just about to say something obnoxious about his reference to God when he let out an almighty yell of pain, clutching his head, driven to his knees. 

"Draco!" Hermione gasped, throwing herself down after him.

"Get out of the way, Mudblood!" Lucius snarled, shoving her aside.  Hermione gave him a fleeting look of terror, and dashed away.

"What is it now?" he hissed.  "You are not doing well with going about your duties—"

"Head…hurts," Draco gasped through gritted teeth, holding his head in his hands and shaking slightly.  Lucius fell abruptly silent, staring at his son in mounting anger.

"It's you!" he almost shrieked, practically spitting in outrage.  He jerked Draco unceremoniously to his feet.  The pain in his head reached a high pitch and stars danced in front of his eyes as he struggled to stay conscious.  It didn't help that his father was now dragging him out of the castle. 

*********

As Draco disappeared through the doors, Hermione dashed up the stairs.  She had to make sure that Ron and Alex were safe.  She sprinted to the Fat Lady, hurriedly choked the password, and lunged the length of the mostly-filled common room.  Running up the staircase leading to the girls' dorms, she found the door with the sign reading Fourth Years, and was just about to knock on the door when…she stopped, listening hard.  From behind the door she could hear muffled thumps and groans and gasps.  Hermione froze.  Was Alex being tortured?  And where was Ron?

Thinking that it was better to be safe than sorry, she pulled out her wand.

"_Alohomora!"_ she whispered, and carefully, silently, pushed the door open.

**********

Out of the darkness, Ron thought he heard the door open.  He leaned back slightly, trying to see whom it could be, but Alex still had her arms linked firmly around his neck, pulling him back down.  She kissed him again, with such intensity that his mouth was most surely cut and bleeding, but he didn't care.  Her long, thin fingers caressed his bare back, tracing the length of his spine.  His mouth disconnected from hers to plant smaller kisses all the way down her neck to around her collarbone and felt her lithe body tremble under his, her thin chest rising and falling rapidly.  

He suddenly forgot where he was and any problems that had previously troubled him, lost in the sheer rapture of the moment.  He was now vaguely aware of the mysterious intruder pulling back the hangings around the bed, watching them intently, but was even more aware of the fact that Alex's legs were now locked around his knees.  By now he didn't care who was watching them or why, or even if the castle came down around his ears.  

Alex felt Ron's mouth leave hers and do something very interesting at her chest that took her breath away and almost caused her to faint.  Then his hand slid downward under the waistband of her jeans and she shuddered, placing her hand over his and interlacing their fingers.  His other hand moved behind her back—

"RON WEASLEY!"

Ron would've fallen out of bed if Alex hadn't been there; he jerked his head up, and Alex made a small noise of protest but collapsed against the pillow, gasping.  Ron turned his head, raising his hand to block a harsh beam of moonlight that fell across his eyes and gave a start.  _Moonlight?_

After his eyes had adjusted to the glow, he squinted to see who was standing there.  His injured mouth went slack as the moonlight illuminated the figure.

It was Hermione, and she looked annoyed beyond extent.  Her arms were folded over her chest and her face was twisted into an almost amused scowl.  Ron was now acutely aware of his lack of clothing, the fact that his hair was plastered all over his face with sweat, and the state that the sheets were in.

"What is it, Ron?" Alex asked, wearily sitting up on her elbows.  Then she caught sight of Hermione and blushed from her lack of clothes, pulling the sheets up a little higher.

"Uh…hello, Hermione," Ron said, his ears going red.  He grinned sheepishly.

"Ron!" Hermione shouted furiously, her hands on her hips.  "What on earth do you think you're doing?!"

"Err…fixing her wounds?" he ventured lamely.

"Fixing her wounds indeed!" Hermione said, glaring at him.

He rolled his eyes.  "Relax, Hermione, I've still got my pants on—"

"That's not the point!  Your sister's missing and all you can think of doing is creating a new definition to the word—"

"_Hermione_," Alex interrupted.  She looked at her with seriously twinkling (is that possible?) brown eyes.  "A Death Eater threw a curse at me and it burned my back."  She sat up gingerly, with some difficulty (Ron was still on top of her), and Ron pulled back her black-brown hair to show her the silver scars on her back.  She was very skinny indeed.  "Ron _was _fixing my wounds—"

"See, Hermione?  Harry told me to find Alex and keep her safe.  Well—" he gestured around the room—"I have."  Hermione wrinkled her nose as Ron smiled triumphantly.  He was now spanning Alex's waist, pinning her to the bed with his knees.  As it wasn't very comfortable position for either of them, he said, "Now, if you'll excuse us—" He made to close the curtains again, but Hermione yanked them back.

"So you're telling me that you care more about Alex than your own sister?" she demanded.

"No!" said Ron, wounded.  "I'm saying that there's no point in going after her myself because Harry's already doing that and I would just be screwing everything up.  And besides," he said with a naughty grin at Alex, "I can't do _this _to my sister."  Ron pulled the curtains back into place, more forcefully, and soon Hermione could hear Alex giggling and shrieking with pleasure.  Hermione sighed.  Why couldn't anything ever bother Ron?  Suddenly, something shot out from the curtains and hit her face.  She held it out at arms length and realized with a wave of nausea that it was Ron's jeans.  Hermione expelled a long, frustrated, "_Aaargh!_" and, entirely revolted by the sounds coming from behind the curtain, escaped the dorm for the common room, which was now quite full of nervous students.

********

Harry awoke from a searing pain in his head.  It wasn't a scar pain.  He wasn't sure what caused him to pass out, but all he could remember was Voldemort, reciting an incantation that would, presumably, reveal his mind link partner.  At this, his memory went on fast forward, and he remembered Wormtail, Voldemort, the glowing orb, and—

_Ginny._

He pushed himself to his feet, and saw Voldemort standing before him, an ugly smile on his pale, lipless face.

"Awake now, Harry?  Did you enjoy your little nap?" he said nastily.

Harry didn't give him the satisfaction of an answer.  Instead, he looked past him for Ginny.  He was surprised to see that her bindings had disappeared, and she now lay on the floor in a heap, her robes torn, her white face drawn with pain.  

"Ah, you're wondering about your little girlfriend, aren't you, Potter?" Voldemort sneered.

Harry ignored the snake like voice that seemed to be boring into his head.  He stood up straighter, his eyes still on Ginny.  Harry didn't care what happened to him; didn't care if Voldemort killed him on the spot.  His head still throbbed from the combined pain in his scar and from the spell.  Voldemort was obviously keeping it going to give the Death Eaters at the school enough time to find the partner.  His stomach twisted unpleasantly again.  What if they found Draco?…No, he thought, pushing the notion out of his mind, a little too firmly.  Draco's smart enough to keep out of trouble…isn't he?  Defiantly, confidently, he strode across the room towards Ginny, his feet padding lightly on the dirt floor, and impossibly, miraculously, neither Voldemort nor Wormtail made to stop him.  

Without a second thought, he lifted Ginny in his arms with surprising ease.  Panting slightly from fear, he turned around—and saw exactly what had distracted the Dark Lord and his silver-armed minion.

The glowing, white orb that was suspended in mid air near the dirt ceiling was pulsing vividly with a brilliance that rivalled the moon at its waning point in the sky.  A pale, misshapen face floated in its centre and was speaking to Voldemort, or, rather, Voldemort was speaking to it.

"Well, Lucius?" he prompted coldly.  "Have you found the boy's partner yet?"

"I have," he replied grimly.  Harry broke into a cold sweat and nearly dropped Ginny.  Maybe Lucius found the wrong person…?

"Well?  Who is it?"

"I swear to you, Master, I had no idea of this," said Lucius.  He gave a sharp yank at someone's arm.

The bloodless face of Draco Malfoy loomed out of the darkness.

*********

*pulls head up with great difficulty after gagging repeatedly*  NOOOOO!!!!  NOOOO, NOOOO, NOOO!!!  Not _another_ romance scene!  Crissy did that one with Alex and Ron, of course.  (Just as a reminder, Alex is me.  And I do NOT have a thing for Ron.  The descriptions for Alex happen to match mine—entire coincidence!) That was revenge on me for doing that whole Hermione/Draco thing.  GAAHHH!!!  (Ick, Rupert Grint is NOT hot, no, hell no....)  Well, here's a pic of Hermione and Ron hugging...whoever drew this made him look super hot.  This is more how I imagined him to look.  Check it out at http://www.mediaminer.org/fanart/view.php?id=17464.  See, see?  Alex isn't _that_ crazy...eek, don't hurt me!  *gets pummelled by Ron fans* hey, if I had my ways, this would be how he really looks.... (Don't worry, I will be forever faithful to Harry...I just gotta persuade that person to draw one of Harry and Cho...)  If any of you know where I can find one with Harry and Cho, please let me know.  I haven't been able to find any decent ones...Anyway, I guess that's it for now, but please don't forget to review!  See that pretty blue button down there?  You know, at the bottom of the page?  That is your friend...see, it likes to be petted.... and if it gets petted, say, about 50 more times, it will be very very happy...


	12. Killing Me Softly (you take my breath aw...

FINALLY ff.net is back on.  I'm starting to think that this is more trouble than it's worth…Oh, no!  I'm almost finished with this fic!  *sniffles* I'm pretty sure only one more chapter after this one, but I could be wrong.  Before I say good-bye, I must dedicate this chap to Crissy, who has been so much help in creating this…accident?  Oh, well.  Anyways, I'm just going to let this one go for now, because I've got nothing better to say.  Heeheehee…and Lynn?  Fluffy bunnies?  You've got to be joking…. (There, u happy?  You're in my author's note…*sticks out tongue*)

Silent Tears Part XII     

Killing Me Softly  (you take my breath away…)

"Hermione, where are Alex and Ron?" Michelle asked, sitting down in an armchair next to her.  Hermione rolled her eyes and set down the book she was reading in her lap.  

"Are you sure you want to know?" she said in disgust, but on closer inspection, she looked rather strained.

"What-?"

Hermione nodded toward the girls' staircase and Michelle's eyes grew wide.

"You aren't serious, are you?" she said, looking close to laughing.

"Oh, I'm serious," Hermione replied sourly, "and I'm guessing they are too, by the looks of it.  I went up there looking for them about two hours ago, and they were..." She sighed, shaking her head.  

"Oi!  Hermione!" George called from across the room from where he, Fred, and Lee Jordan were counting money.  "Have you seen Ron?"

Hermione sighed again.  "Do I really have to explain this again?" she moaned.  The twins were giving her odd looks, so she said wearily, "In the fourth year girls' dormitory."

"The fourth year girls' dormitory?" Fred echoed, glancing at George.  Then both of their faces cracked into evil grins.

"You wouldn't—" Hermione began.

"Oh, we would," George grinned, and, before Hermione could stop them, they leapt across the room and sprinted up the stairs.  Hermione expelled a frustrated breath.  "I give them five minutes," she muttered to Michelle.  Michelle snorted. 

Sure enough, not five minutes later, Fred and George came pelting down the stairs, expressions of utmost horror on their faces.

"We didn't even have the nerve to open the door," George said faintly, throwing himself into an armchair and taking Deep Cleansing Breaths.

"You would think that they would've had to come up for air by now," said Fred in amazement, shaking his head despairingly. 

"Well, I did warn you," Hermione said in a superior tone.  

********

Draco's bloodless face loomed out of the darkness.

Harry expelled an audible gasp of astonishment and backed up against the wall where the roots snatched at his hair and clothes.  Ginny stirred in his arms at his movement, but remained unconscious.  

_Malfoy…? _

"Don't think I can't hear you, Potter," Voldemort said in amusement, turning around.  He saw that Harry had Ginny in his arms and narrowed his eyes.  He raised his wand, and in one swift movement, Ginny fell from his arms, Harry was raised off his feet, and was thrown across the room, hitting the wall, hard.  The back of his head struck a protruding stone, and a searing pain lanced through his entire body, sending fire coursing through his veins.  He staggered to his feet, the pain in his head now tripling.  Voldemort, apparently satisfied that Harry would make no further attempts to escape, had turned back to Lucius.  

"Are you prepared to commence, Lucius?"

"Yes, My Lord.  Of course," Lucius answered quietly.  He looked down and was presumably searching for something in his robes.  When he glanced up again, he wore an agitated expression on his face.  "Master…it appears that I have misplaced my wand," he said in a tone that matched his countenance.  From what Harry could see of him, Voldemort's eyes narrowed.

"No matter…it can be preformed with as much ease here as it can be from there," he said in a voice full of menace, a serrated edge that took much pleasure in its tormenting of innocent souls.  He turned toward Harry, advancing upon him with his wand raised once again.  Harry was reminded suddenly, vividly, of his meeting with Tom Riddle, three years ago.  The same mannerisms, mostly, the way he walked, the lazy meander, how he held his wand…and the same cruel amusement in his voice, the same horrible, hungry gleam in his eyes.  Only those eyes had been a translucent grey, almost blank of expression save for the terrible scorn and loathing that burned there, hungry for a purpose in life, to rise above the rest; these were red, deep, thirsty, craving more than life's necessities…blood, power, knowledge, immortality.  But what had driven the handsome, clever boy into becoming someone so heinous and ruthless was beyond Harry. 

"The gift of telepathy is highly overrated, Harry," Voldemort said softy, jerking him back to the present.  "I had it myself once, fifty years ago, as you so kindly put it."  His voice was full of mocking and dripping sarcasm, and his eyes burned into Harry's face, though Harry focused at a point beyond Voldemort, the only thing that was keeping up his resolve: Ginny.  But a thought occurred to him…

"You can't hurt me," he said slowly.  "I'm protected, and I've got the one thing that can defeat you."  He reached into his pocked, now raising his eyes and locking his gaze with Voldemort's.  The only problem was, his pockets were empty.  With a cold spasm of fear that caused his insides to curl up and shrivel he realized that—

"Your wand won't be doing you much good, now will it, _if you don't have it._"  Harry stared at him with a cool detachment, although on the inside he was panicking.  _Where was his bloody wand?  _Voldemort reached out a lazy hand and plucked out of nowhere a long, glimmering piece of wood.  Harry recognised it immediately and could feel himself paling further.  Voldemort laughed and raised his own wand.  

Once again, Harry was thrown against the wall.  The breath was pulled out of him as efficiently as a vacuum.  His head cracked down hard, and the pain in his head cresended.  Reaching to the back of his head, he felt something wet there.  Blood.  Stars winking in front of his eyes, he slumped against the wall to the ground.  

Voldemort was now crouched down in front of him, and Harry kept his eyes focused on the floor.  There was a cold sort of contempt in his catlike eyes, staring at Harry down the lacking length of his snake-slitted nose.  "I once had it myself," he continued in a quiet voice that nonetheless sent violent tremors through Harry's body; it was like shards of ice that had been drenched in oil.  "And my mind-link partner was quite as unfortunate as yours…quite unfortunate."  He didn't seem prolonged to elaborate on the subject, however.  Voldemort's soft breath stirred Harry's hair, causing him to shudder.  He closed his eyes, trying to get a grip on himself, and while they were closed he failed to notice that Voldemort was now pointing his wand at him again…

"_Crucio!_"

His eyes flared open just as a jet of violet light hit him in the chest.  The pain was horrible, wrenching at his insides, and he screamed loud and long.  His entire being was dying; he was being turned inside out…Stars winked in front of his eyes; he saw bursts of colour that swirled around in his head…faintly, he saw a narrow beam of light shudder and snap in two…and finally faded into black.

***********

How long he had lain there, he did not know.  He sat up quickly, rubbing his head, and the stars were back.  His entire body ached…  Then he remembered Voldemort…

"I hope you now realize the unfortunate powers of telepathy, Potter," he heard him whisper.  "Look…"

Harry twisted his head around and saw that the orb had turned itself back to Draco, who was still lying on the forest floor, his eyes closed, pale as death.  Harry was puzzled.  If he was awake, shouldn't Malfoy be awake as well?  

"Lucius," Voldemort said precipitously.  "Is he awake?"  There was a note in his voice that Harry hadn't heard before: it was almost like urgency, and Harry wondered…

Lucius's head bobbed back into view.  His face was taut and troubled, but not out of concern for his son.

"No, Master.  He is still unconscious."

Voldemort's face contorted.  The fact that Malfoy was still out cold could only mean that—

"Their connection has been broken," Voldemort stated with a note of conclusiveness.  His voice was blank of all emotion, yet his eyes were what gave him away: they had narrowed to fiery slits of fury that could only mean that this was definitely not supposed to have happened. 

Then Voldemort turned.  Harry regarded in his eyes the ghastly voracious expression and knew, without having to be told, what was coming next.  He had seen that look in Voldemort's eyes before…on the night of the Third Task…he braced himself, praying for it to come swiftly and painlessly, all the while bitterly thinking that he hadn't even saved Ginny…

A long shadow fell over him, and, realizing that he had clenched his eyes shut, opened them slowly to see Wormtail standing over him.

"I only intend to commit one murder tonight, Wormtail," Voldemort said coldly.  "The rest we will save for later days and nights.  Move out of the way."

But Wormtail stood still, guarding Harry's body with his own.  Harry could only see his back, and the muscles there were tensed as if this took every solitary bit of courage he possessed to stand up against his master.  Stand up to his master, moreover.  He was shaking from head to toe, but gave the impression that he was determined, despite the outcome.

"I have watched you murder countless people," Wormtail said in a squeaky voice that trembled as much as his body, but was quite strong.  "You murdered my best friend fourteen years ago, and on my information.  Yet I am still one of the Marauding Four.  You call me by the name they called me.  Wormtail…"  He shook his balding head.  "Maybe you do not know, My Lord, but I am in a life debt with the youngest Potter.  And I won't let him die."  He raised his chin defiantly, and seemed decided.  "I won't let you kill him."  He glanced at Harry over his shoulder.  "Sirius Black told me that my own stinking skin meant more to me than Harry's whole family.  Yes, he was right.  I am a coward.  I will always be a coward.  And I will never change.  But you cannot kill him."

Harry leaned around Wormtail to look at Voldemort.  He was vaguely surprised to see that the Dark Lord was gazing at Wormtail with a bored expression on his face.  Indeed, if he had a moustache (or any hair, for that matter), he would have been twisting it around his finger.  He stared down Wormtail with detached amusement and said, quite lazily, "As noble a speech as that was, Wormtail, are you quite finished?  I would like to get on with this."

But Wormtail firmly stood his ground.  "No."

"No?" Voldemort now looked faintly annoyed.  "No?  Come now, Wormtail.  Remember what I offer you…a place above the rest, wealth, power…Do stop being noble and stand aside so I can commit the murder I have been waiting do commit for fourteen years now…"

"No," Wormtail stated, his voice barely audible from the tremors that shook it.

"Very well, then.  I must admit, you were quite useless to me.  You are of no loss.  I can find others whom are willing to support me rather than die for the friends they betrayed…"

Wormtail flinched slightly, facing the wand.  He clenched his artificial arm, and said, in almost a whisper, "Kill me, then."

Voldemort smiled without mirth.  "_Avada Kedavra!"_

A harsh blast of green light illuminated the entire cave, blinding Harry.  He saw Wormtail fall to the ground, and knew, in that instant, that he was dead.

He looked back at Voldemort and saw that he was eyeing the body of his dead servant with an almost pitying expression in his eyes.  

"Fool," he murmured softly.  Then he shifted his gaze back to Harry.  "He was a fool to think that if I killed him, I would let you live.  But how wrong he was…how very wrong."  He stretched out a booted toe and flipped Wormtail over onto his back, so that his face was visible.  As he watched, the silver arm flickered and disappeared, in its place a stump of an arm.

Harry tensed, biting down absently on his lip.  There was no hope for him now, no one else to come to his rescue…the only way would be if they knew where this cave was, but how could they…?

Voldemort advanced upon him, and Harry knew this was the end.  He tried to stand, so he could at least die proudly, like his father…but the aches that the Cruciatous Curse had left all over his body prevented him from even turning his head any further…he slumped back against the wall, defeated, and turned his gaze back to behind Voldemort, where Ginny lay…but wait, he thought, staring at Ginny's comatose figure, she's _awake_…

Sure enough, Ginny had silently sat up, staring at Harry with wide, doleful eyes.  Then she looked at Voldemort and seemed to be undergoing some extremely quick thinking.  Next, she slowly rose to her feet, all the while not taking her gaze from Voldemort.  Harry tried to communicate to her with his eyes without Voldemort noticing what his goal was. _Run! _he pleaded silently to her, but she either didn't understand or wasn't heeding his desperate gaze.  He looked back at Voldemort, whose lipless mouth had curled into a sardonic smile.  "You were so predictable, Potter…how easy this will be to kill you at last…"

Harry sighed, defeated, and waited.

"_Crucio!"  _Harry knew the curse was for him to die in pain…he bit down harder on his lip, fighting hopelessly not to cry out in pain, but it was a fruitless attempt.  The pain was far worse than any before, so all consuming…his scar might have continued to dash across the length of his head, splitting it open—

At last, it stopped, and Harry gazed blearily up at Voldemort.  There was a look of savage triumph in his eyes…Harry closed his eyes, giving himself up to the inevitable.  And sure enough…

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

The green light came, and his scar pitched again, almost causing him to pass out, which, he thought bitterly, it didn't.

"No, Harry!  _NO!_"  

An echoing cry reverberated off the walls of the cave; a small figure hurtled from across the room and stood before him, in between him and the jet of poisonous green light.

"_No, _Ginny!  _Don't!_"  He made to shove her away but…

Too late.

The spell cast, it met its target…except…

There was a terrible scream of fury…through Harry's closed and stinging eyelids, he made out an awesome blast of green light…a shadow dispersing…then silence.  His scar seared sharply once more, then, with a final extreme spurt of pain, diminished.  He raised a shaking hand and slowly opened his eyes, wiping the sweat away from his forehead, and it came back red.  His scar was bleeding.  He felt something else wet on his face and found that he had bitten through his lower lip out of fear.

The orb suspended near the ceiling was throbbing its pallid white light again, but this time becoming fainter and fainter all the while.  Lucius was trying to contact his master, but must have realised that no help would befall him…. Gazing around the room, where a greenish haze lingered, Harry spotted two huddled lumps on the floor.  One was Wormtail's body.  The other…he realized, with a horrible lurch of his stomach, was Ginny.  Another swift glance around the room told him that Voldemort was nowhere to be seen.

Ginny moaned and rolled over.  Harry gave a start.  _How could she possibly still be alive?_ he thought wildly.  He hurried over to her and knelt down beside her.

"What did you do to him, Ginny?" he asked softly.

"What did you say?" she murmured, her eyes sliding in and out of focus.

"Voldemort…That curse should've killed you…and it didn't."

She shook her head bemusedly, as if trying to clear out cobwebs.

"It worked once, didn't it?  You were saved because of your mother, and I thought…"

"Well, it worked again, it looks like."  He smiled wanly.  "I guess you're the Girl Who Lived, now, aren't you?"

"No, Harry…I think…I'm dying."

The moment hung suspended between them, like an airplane with its engines cut, waiting to plummet.

"Don't say that, Ginny.  You aren't dying."  He laid a hand gently on the side of her face, tilting it toward him.  She didn't say anything, only put her hand on top of his.  When she did speak, her voice was barely audible.

"Harry…would it be too much to ask if…would you…"

"What is it?"

"Before I die…can…you kiss me?  I…love you, Harry…I do…" Her breath was coming in uneven gasps, and her face was drawn with pain.

"Ginny, I—" Harry began, quite startled.

"Please…"  

Harry hesitated, then lowered his face to hers, sliding his hand under her head.

The kiss that followed was painfully bittersweet.  Gentle, yet inclusive.  When their mouths touched, Ginny let out a small gasp; Harry couldn't tell if it was out of surprise or not.  Then her lips parted and she moaned, and he merely assumed that it was an attempt to get more out of the kiss.  But when she didn't kiss him back, he began to wonder…__

He pulled back, laying her head gently back on the ground.  Her eyes were open, glassy and blank, but a small smile dawned her lips.  The lines of pain were smoothed from her face…

Harry raised his hand and gently lowered her eyelids and bowed his head, tears filling his eyes.  She had been right.

He really did take her breath away.  

_Maybe there's a God above,_

_And all I ever learned from love_

_Was how to shoot at someone who_

_Outdrew you._

_It's not a cry you can hear at night,_

_It's not somebody who's seen the light,_

_It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah._

_Hallelujah,_

_Hallelujah,_

_Hallelujah,_

_Hallelujah…_

***********

_He was dreaming.  Dreaming that he was running very fast through a patch of woods, but getting nowhere.  The only thought that went through his mind was, "I've got to keep going...she's waiting for me..." He didn't understand what these words meant, and his dream self didn't seem willing to co-operate.  Whenever he tried to slow down, he just sped up, gaining speed, even though he could barely catch his breath.  The moon shone brightly, high in the sky, a pallid lantern lighting his way.  Panting, a sharp stitch in his chest, he hurtled through the trees, dodging this way and that, and finally..._

_He came to a clearing that was bathed, not in moonlight, but in shimmering sunshine.  There she was, standing in the middle of the meadow, in a flowing white dress that he had never seen before.  Her long red hair fanned out behind her in a non-existent wind, and there seemed to be a halo of light surrounding her beautiful frame.  She stretched out her small hand to him and called his name._

_"Ron...help me..."  Her voice was faint, coming as if he was hearing her from far away._

_He stepped forward out of the trees, trying to reach her, but the closer he got, the farther away she seemed to get.  His feet padded on the soft grass, and he was covering distance, but try as he might, she remained just out of his reach..._

_"I can't, Ginny, I can't..."_

_"Please, Ron, I need you..."_

_"Why?  Where are we? What's going on?  I don't understand..."_

_He broke into a run, but he only stayed where he was...getting nowhere... She was fading beyond his range of vision…he sped up, but she was simply getting farther and farther beyond his reach…_

_"Ginny!  WAIT!"_

_"Good-bye, Ron..."_

"NO!"

Ron sat up, panting, staring wildly around in the darkness.  Throwing back the sheets, he rolled out of bed…and almost right on top of Alex.  He caught his breath.  _Oh, yeah…_he thought, as the previous night's events were commemorated.   

Alex lay curled up among the scarlet sheets, her bare shoulder visible, her left tucked under the pillow and her dark hair spewing all around her head.  Ron gazed at her, her lightly tanned skin glowing with heat, her small body rising and falling with every breath she took.  Her right arm was stretched out over her well-formed figure, giving her a very dramatic appearance.

She stirred, and rolled over on her back, and saw Ron leaning over her.  She gazed up at him sleepily, her amber eyes travelling up to meet his gaze.

"Silver-tongued devil," she yawned, and sighed, moving closer to him.

"You sure weren't complaining last night.  Hey!  What the—ow!" he yelped as Alex wrestled him underneath her.  She giggled, folding her arms triumphantly on top of his chest.

"I guess it's lucky you're so light.  I mean, you could be a big fat old lady and I would be squashed flat by now—"

"Shut up, Ron.  Anyway, I wouldn't be the one to talk if I were you."

"That's enough out of that mouth."

"Oh really?" she asked innocently, tracing a lazy finger over Ron's chest.  She paused, ostensibly pondering the outcome of her question; then asked, "Was that you who screamed?"

"Probably," he said slowly, the memory rolling over him and robbing him of the momentary happiness he had achieved.  "I was having a dream…" He trailed off uncertainly, an apprehensive sensation taking up residence in his stomach.  He was glad Alex was there…he could talk to her…He glanced at her again, who was looking at him and seemed to know better than ask anymore.  Instead, she kissed him lightly on the mouth and rested her chin upon her arms, sighing contentedly.  He stroked her hair, taking comfort in her closeness.  

"Get off," he muttered softly, rolling his eyes. "Or else."

She batted her long eyelashes at him.  "Or else what?" she asked innocently.

"This," he said, and slid his hands down her back to her sides, tickling her ruthlessly.  "Stop it!" she yelled, shrieking with helpless laughter.  "Stop!"  The next thing she knew, there was a flurry of movement, and she was lying flat on her back, gasping, Ron on top of her.  She glared playfully at him.  

"My turn," he said softly, smirking and folding his arms on top of her chest.

"Mean," she grumbled.

Ron looked at her, injured.  "So you're mad at me then?"

"Come over here and find out."

"Nice one," he said, and rested his head on her chest, listening to the frantic thumping of her heart as she threaded her fingers through his hair and sighed.  

"You know what I find amazing?" Alex remarked unexpectedly.

"What, besides me?" Ron grinned.

"Oh very funny.  Actually, I was going to say something to that effect.  I've never met anyone who could undo a bra strap single-handedly.  I didn't think it possible."

"How do you know that?"

Alex looked at him.  "Because your other hand was at the front, pulling it off." 

He grinned sheepishly.  "Well, that's just me.  Bra Strap Guy."

"You are disgusting."

"Hey, you're the one who brought it up."  He reached down to the side of the bed and lifted something black to within the hangings.

"Hey!  Put that down!" Alex yelped indignantly, trying to sit up.  But he grinned and held her down with his arm across her throat and glanced at the tag of the bra.

"Hmm…32 B.  Good job, there."

"Pervert!" Alex moaned.  

"Yes, that's me," Ron said proudly, throwing it back down.  Then he slid his hands under her back and shifted so that he lay on his side, with Alex lying next to him.  She turned around so her back was to him, her hand on his arm, and he embraced her tightly, breathing in the alluring scent of her hair.  He kissed her shoulder, her neck, her throat…

She squirmed, attempting to turn around again, and kissed his mouth, exercising her tongue a little more than she intended.

There was a knock at the door.  Ron broke off the kiss, which was becoming extremely appealing, reached over, and pulled back the hangings, the pale, cold light of dawn striking their eyes.  

"Who is it?" Alex called out.

"Alex, is that you?  And Ron, are you there too?  I know you've got to be, I could hear the smacking…"

The tone of her voice was so troubled that Alex shifted around and tucked the sheet under her arms.  "Come in, Michelle."

Michelle opened the door and stepped inside.  Alex braced herself for a reproach about making out with Ron all night, but when she saw her friend's face, this didn't seem to be the case.  There were tear tracks all down her face, and she was biting her lip worriedly.

"Michelle, what is it?  Did something happen…?"

"That's just it, I don't know."  She looked at Ron.  "Your sister still hasn't come back.  And neither has Harry."

Ron sat up quickly.

"I'm coming," he said roughly, and Michelle blushed.  Ron had his boxers on, but still…(a/n: do they even _have _boxers in the wizarding world?  Just a question…) Ron seemed to notice this, because he said, "I'll be down…in a minute…"

"Me too," Alex said.  

"No, you're not.  You're staying up here where it's safe."

"I'll wait for you in the common room, I promise."

"But…"

"You can't stop me, Ron Weasley, Ginny is my best friend, don't forget."

Ron sighed.  "Alright, alright…" Michelle managed a small smile at their quarrel and closed the door.

After he was sure she had gone, Ron leaned over and kissed Alex, hard, channelling all of his worry and frustration into unbearable passion.  He kissed her so brutally it was painful, but Alex welcomed the pain.  Kissing him back, she tasted blood mingled with tears, and realised with a jolt of bewilderment and horror that Ron was crying, and her lip had begun to bleed.  His teeth had pierced her skin in his harsh desperation, his tongue nearly cutting off her breathing.  She let him, until he was so exhausted from distress and exertion that he couldn't move, and he lay back down.  He was gasping for breath, tears welling up in his throat and causing him to choke.  She smoothed back his cherry coloured hair to sooth him, all the while staring out the window.  There she could see, just beyond the horizon, the brilliantly golden sun, doing nothing to banish the inexplicable darkness that had settled in their souls.

*********

Harry didn't have the faintest idea as to how he had gotten out of the cave with Ginny's and Wormtail's bodies.  All he remembered was sitting on the floor next to Ginny, stroking her fiery hair and closing his eyes, then the next thing he knew, he was sitting on the forest floor.  The cold silver moon flitted through the trees, and the stars twinkled like knowing eyes.  It seemed as if they knew everything that had happened…then he thought ruefully, if it weren't for the darkness, how would we knew the stars existed?

Sighing deeply, he lifted Ginny carefully, as if she were merely asleep and would awake at his slightest movement.  Then he turned and started toward the castle.

The world tipped and swayed before his eyes as he slowly trudged across the grounds.  His head still ached, and so did the rest of his body, but he kept going.  Several times he thought he was going to be sick, but he swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat and pressed on.  The entrance hall was dark and quiet.  It seemed that the Death Eaters had either been captured or fled when they realised that their master was there no more.  He clutched Ginny tightly to his chest and slowly traipsed down the hall to the first teacher's office he found.

Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Dumbledore were gathered there, talking in hushed tones.  They looked up when Harry stepped over the threshold.  McGonagall gasped.

He had taken one step too many.  The ground lurched beneath him; the scene swirled before his eyes…the last thing he saw before he passed out was Professor Dumbledore rushing toward him, catching Ginny from his nerveless arms, and the rest was darkness.

***********

A light shone from beyond the dark void of nothingness.  He struggled to open his eyes, but his head pounded unrelentingly.  He didn't know where he was.  He wasn't lying down, but he wasn't sitting or standing either.  Then he heard a voice…

"Harry…_Harry._"

He tried to tell whoever it was that he was awake, just couldn't open his eyes, but he couldn't…every element of his body was paralysed…

He struggled, and at last, his eyes opened.  Even though he had his glasses on, it took a moment for the room to come into focus.  When he could at last see, Dumbledore was standing over him, very concerned.

"Harry," he said again, his expression very grave.  "Are you all right?"

Harry nodded slowly, his muscles aching.  Dumbledore circled around the desk and sat down opposite him.  It was then that Harry realised that Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape had disappeared, and Ginny's body was no where to be seen.

Dumbledore was watching him intently with his penetrating, light blue gaze.  Harry knew what he was going to do.  He was going to question him.  Again.

Dumbledore leaned forward, his chin upon his hands.  "I know you know what I'm going to ask you, Harry," he began gently.  "I know this is your least favourite part of the year, when I must question you on what you went through.  But I must insist upon it.  Tell me all you know."

Harry sighed defeatedly, and began to tell.  He told him about the cave, the glowing orb, Lucius, Draco, Wormtail's noble move, and Ginny's sacrifice.  Then his throat constricted, and he could continue no longer.  He just couldn't readily banish Ginny's last words to him…she had died for him because she loved him so much…

Tears stung his eyes again, and he looked away from Dumbledore, who seemed to understand.  After a few moments' silence, Dumbledore spoke again.

"You know what you need to do now, Harry?" he said.  His voice was gentle, firm, and direct.  Harry nodded painfully.

He had shown Harry the door.  Now Harry just needed to walk through it.

**********

About twenty minutes later, Ron and Alex came down the stairs.  As soon as they were in sight of those in the common room, they heard a shout despite the tense atmosphere. 

"Hey, Ron!  Good job last night…you sure know how to go for it!"

Ron made a face at Fred and walked past him, Alex at his side.

"How'd it go for you, Alex?  Was Ron really—" He broke off as George elbowed him in the ribs, and they both fell about with laughter.  Alex flashed them a rather rude sign (though not to Americans ^.^ ), and a chorus of  reproachful "Oooo's!" resounded around the room. 

Hermione and Michelle were sitting on a couch near the portrait hole and looked up when they approached.

"We've been waiting for hours," Hermione said in a quiet voice.  She looked very strained, and her eyes were extremely red.  

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Alex asked, sitting down next to her and laying her hand on her arm.  Hermione drew a shuddering breath and stared at the fire.

"Yes, I'm just worried about Harry and Ginny," she said, her eyes rather far away.  Ron sat down behind Alex and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her on the top of her head.

"Where do you think they are?  You don't think that—?"

The words hadn't even escaped from Ron's lips when the portrait hole swung open, and a very grave Harry stepped through.  A hush descended over the room as everyone turned to stare at Harry.   

He looked like he had been through Hell.  His face was smeared with dirt and blood and sweat, his hair messed even more than usual; twigs and leaves attached to his robes, which were dishevelled, as were his glasses.  His face was haggard and drawn as he scanned the common room and spotted Ron, Alex, Michelle, and Hermione.  He walked over to Ron, took a deep breath, and said, in a shaking voice, "Ron, I think you need to follow me." 

**********  

He sat at the small round table, staring blankly into space.  A glass of water stood in front of him, but he ignored it.  There was another chair on the opposite side of the table, but it was cold and empty.  The room was dark.  The only light was the pale glow of sunrise, that didn't seem able to penetrate the mullioned windows that were resisting any attempts of warmth.  

 The door opened.  He walked in and took the vacant chair.  Slowly sitting down, he eyed his best friend warily, wondering how best to break the news.  He was worried about his sanity, for now; the red haired boy was staring blankly ahead, unaware of his entrance.

Harry cleared his throat, and Ron looked up.  Harry sucked in his breath, startled at what he saw.  Ron's face was pale, troubled, taut.  He seemed to know what was coming.

"Ron, I…" Harry began, hesitating.

Ron didn't say anything.  The only sign that he had heard was that his hand was now gripping the glass of water in front of him, his knuckles blue.

"Ron, there's something I need to tell you," Harry tried again.  "Ginny's—"

"I know," he interrupted.  His eyes were lowered, staring at the ground.  Harry started.

"You—you _know?"_ Harry faltered, looking at his friend uncertainly.

"Yes."  Ron didn't look up, nor did his face change expression.

"I'm sorry, Ron," he said quietly.

Ron didn't respond.  His knuckles were white on the glass now, as if he were trying to break it with his bare hands.

"I saw her," he said abruptly, breaking the uncomfortable silence.  "She needed me, but I couldn't reach her…" He coughed hard, his chest shaking with each wracking breath.  Harry started to get to his feet, but Ron waved him off.

"There's no point.  It's been coming on and off for ages…"  

Harry stared.  How had he not noticed?  Ron's coughing quieted after a few moments, his hand still gripping the water glass tightly.

"It was painless, then?" he asked, his voice low and gravely.  

Harry didn't know what to say.  Ron's eyes were wide and blank, irrationally seeking answers.  Harry decided best not to answer.  In Ron's state, anything he heard would probably throw him off the deep end.

"I'm sorry, Ron," he said again, this time rising to his feet.  He crossed the room and gripped Ron's shoulder.  Ron made no move to stand up with him, only stared straight ahead as if the floor held all the secrets of the universe, clutching at the glass of water as if it was the only thing keeping him alive.  Unwilling to stay in this room much longer in the present devastating situation, Harry walked to the door.  Just as he crossed over the threshold, he heard the tinkling sound of breaking glass.

********

WAAAAAAAHHH!!!!!!  I KILLED GINNY!!!!  WAAAAAAHHH!!!!  Oh well.  She was pretty useless, wasn't she?  All right, all right!  Cool it, will you?  I'm only kidding…I'm sorry, I just couldn't resist putting in a little bit of fluff for such a depressing chapter.  Oh, yeah, I'm supposed to be hating that Alex/Ron thing, aren't I?  Wups…well, as the saying goes, those who can't do, teach.  I've just made my own addition…those who can't be done, write…ooo, I'm bad…and my parents think I'm such a good little girl…hehehe…shows what they know.  *innocent grin* Oh, yeah, I'm sorry, Crissy for putting this chap up without letting you do the last scene, but what can I say, I'm impatient!  You going on mission trips and to your mom's house, I mean, I can't wait two whole weeks just for you!  *pout* I want to get this show on the road!  Well, you people will be happy to hear that I have just one more chapter until Silent Torment hits the web!  YAY!!!!  And you can rest assured, this sequel will be much better than this one.  I just can't wait to start writing it, but, damn, I've got to finish this first!  Oi vey.  Till next time, my friends!  --J


	13. Nightmare Come True

Do you think that Wormtail would really do something that noble and bold?  I dunno.  It just seemed to fit.  I mean, what else would he do with that life debt?  Dumbledore did say that Harry would be very glad he saved Pettigrew's life…I could be wrong, of course…

AAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!  *runs and hides behind bomb shelter* Don't hurt me, please, I am just an innocent bystander, Ron Luver!!!  (Okay, okay, maybe not _that _innocent…*evil grin*)  By the way, did you look at the pic?  *dreamy eyes* OH NO!!!!  *bashes head against wall* x.X;;; Okay, so I've got to admit, Ron would probably make a better lover than Harry…Oh, dear.  I just actually _thought _about how old Alex and Ron are.  Alex is fourteen, and Ron is…Ron is _sixteen. _(Yeah, for those of you who didn't know, his birthday's in March…)  All Crissy said was, "Early bloomers…?", and Lynn just calls it sexual assault.  Oh dear.  Then I asked Crissy what makes her think I would be that aggressive, and she just whistled innocently.  On second thought, I don't even want to know…oO;;;; 

Ah, well, we all knew this moment would come sooner or later.  I know it's sad, but we'll have to deal.  Now, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my friend Kileean on his 13th birthday on July 31st.  Yes, what a wonderful day for all Harry Potter fans…YAY!!!  HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY!!!!  Dammit, and of course, my mother has to _ruin _it by scheduling a frickin _dentist _appointment on such a _sacred _day…DEATH TO DENTISTS!!!!  GGRRRR!!!!  It's bad enough with braces, I mean really…*sigh* Okay, how did I manage that?  I somehow managed to cram three different subjects into three sentences…if you can call those sentences…oO; Somehow I managed to get _way _off the original subject…Oh, well.  Happy birthday, Kileean.  Ignore me.  Anyway, here's to all my wonderful friends and reviewers…enjoy the final chapter of Silent Tears!

Silent Tears 

Part XIII:

Nightmare Come True

"What's comin', will come, and we'll meet it when it does."

Harry wondered bitterly if Hagrid had put all of his heart into this statement when he said it last year.  He wondered if Hagrid had had any idea of what was coming, and whom it would involve.  Harry thought of this time last year, just after Cedric Diggory's death, after he had barely escaped with his life.  How ironic, he thought, for Voldemort to fall again a year after his resurrection, only to be reduced to what he had been for thirteen years once again, and from the same cause.

It was without a doubt the most miserable end of the year Harry had ever experienced, perhaps the most miserable days of his entire life.  Ron and the rest of the Weasleys were devastated, to say the very least.  One couldn't walk past any of them without noticing how pale each of them looked, every one of their freckles standing out startlingly black like an ink dot, the sparkle gone from their normally cheerful eyes, their red hair the only colour to be seen, how grey and sad they all looked.  Left shocked and dispirited from their family tragedy, they rarely spoke and all three of them, even the twins, constantly looked close to tears.  Ron walked from class to class in a sort of dazed attitude, while Fred and George kept their eyes on the floor, never making eye contact with anyone.  Silence rang in the halls as loudly as gonging bells, deprived of the usual chatter and laughter usually brought on by the Weasley brothers.  

Harry himself avoided Ron's gaze as well, not that he needed to.  Ron wasn't speaking to him, though he had assured Harry that he didn't blame him in the slightest.  Harry had not yet told anyone of the last words Ginny had spoken to him, nor did he ever intend to.  They haunted him in his sleep, echoing across the dark and barren space of his mind when he tried to sleep at night; he recalled them in class, over his teachers' dronings; they repeated themselves constantly at mealtimes when he only jabbed absently at his food, the voice never relenting.  Harry hadn't slept in weeks, since her death.  At night was when he heard them the most.

"_I love you, Harry…"_

Every night when he tried to sleep, it was only to be jerked back awake by the harsh green light, drenched in icy cold sweat, to dwell on her voice …

*********

"Ginny sacrificed her life for you, Harry.  Just as your mother did.  You should be thankful that you have people like that in your life that love you that much," Dumbledore told him gently.

"Yes, but not anymore!" Harry burst out irrationally.

"That is not true, and you know it, Harry," Dumbledore admonished kindly.  "Many people do still care for you, and always will."

"Yeah, but what if it's Hermione, or Ron, or Sirius—or you, Professor?" he demanded.

The headmaster considered him for long moments, eyeing him from over the rim of his half-moon glasses.  His blue gaze penetrated through Harry, probing his thoughts.  Then he sighed, and said to him,  "I am well aware of your concerns for your loved ones, Harry, and of your tendency to get stuck in very tight corners."  The corners of his mouth twitched slightly.  Dumbledore then looked at him very seriously, leaned forward, and continued, "You are right to put them first in your life.  However, there are some sacrifices that you must be prepared to risk.  And you must have faith in them to take care of themselves."

Harry dropped his gaze sullenly, promptly feeling as though he were a small child whom had just been severely scolded by their parents.

"And as I understand it…" Dumbledore began, changing the subject.  Harry looked up quickly.  "Wormtail is dead, is he not?"

Harry nodded slowly, wondering if Dumbledore meant what he thought he did.

"Which means…"  

Harry waited, listening anxiously.

"…Sirius is free."

Harry exhaled a deep sigh that seemed to come from the tips of his toes.

"Yes…" Dumbledore got to his feet and circled around his desk.  Harry watched him as he strode across the room to where Fawkes the phoenix stood on his perch, as elegant and as beautiful as ever.  He watched Harry peacefully, blinking serenely.  Dumbledore stroked the bird's golden feathers, frowning thoughtfully.  "I believe that once the Ministry is able to obtain this proof, Sirius will be capable of adopting you."

Harry said nothing.  His heart was pounding painfully fast.  It seemed that, amidst the never ceasing darkness, there was a tiny glimmer of light on a horizon that had never looked darker.  It was enough to almost banish the cheerless and drab feelings that had settled in his heart over the past few weeks. 

"He will be in contact with you soon, I believe."  Dumbledore turned and began pacing in front of the window, then stopped and stared out over the darkening grounds, his hands clasped behind his back.  

"Professor," Harry began on tenterhooks.  "Why did the curse have that affect on Voldemort?  I mean, I know he's got my blood in him, so why did he…err…disintegrate like that?" 

Dumbledore didn't reply for a few moments.  Then he turned and strode back to his desk and seated himself down again.

"It appears that I was correct," Dumbledore said at last.  "I knew last year that the potion he used to regain power would backfire. Just how and when, I could not tell…" He looked at Harry.  "Voldemort is a person who does not understand love, and the power that it generates.  For the love and protection in your blood protects you from evil, not from good.  Voldemort would only be protected if another evil force were to attempt to destroy him."  Dumbledore surveyed Harry more closely, taking note of the deep shadows under his eyes, his thin and fatigued face.  Harry dropped his gaze again, subtly aware of Dumbeldore's scrutiny.  "You are not looking like yourself, Harry," he said gently.  "Would you like to see Madam Pomfrey?  She could give you a sleeping potion…"

"No, it's alright, Professor," Harry answered vaguely.  "I'm fine…"  

That's what he had been telling people for days.  Are you all right, Harry?  Can I get you something?  No, he would answer, no, I'm fine.  But he couldn't ever remember feeling less fine, even during the Triwizard Tournament  

He knew he was being stubborn, that Ron and Fred and George had taken some, but he just couldn't justify leaving Ron alone in the dormitory, with no one there to comfort him.

**********

The days went by.  Day by dreary day, night by lonely night.  Ron was practically never in the dormitory, always in the hospital wing with Fred and George, unable to survive the nights without a sleeping potion.  Nonetheless, every morning upon awakening, they would still show signs of implausible nightmares, their expressions that of a waking dream.  If one looked into their eyes, the nightmare seemed to be real.

The end of term came and went.  The calamity level was almost unbearable for most.  On the train ride back to King's Cross Station, rain pounded relentlessly upon their backs, only reminding them of the dismal atmosphere.  Harry was going straight to the Weasleys' this summer, and he couldn't understand Dumbledore's sudden change of mind.  He must have thought it proper that Harry should be able to go to Ginny's funeral.

Her funeral would take place in a matter of days.  Mr and Mrs Weasley had come to Hogwarts to check up on the twins and Ron, and to see if they wanted to come home early, to which Dumbledore had whole-heartedly agreed.  Harry and Hermione had been welcome too, of course, but both them and Ron had been adamant.  They didn't want to leave until the end of term, which came and went.

They talked very little.  Ron stared expressionlessly out the window, and Hermione and Harry conversed quietly.  There wasn't much to talk about, nothing to say.  Not that they would have talked if there had been anything.  Both of them continuously shot him wary glances, as though worried he might pass out at any second.

The rolling hills were the only sure sign through the rain that they were leaving Hogwarts and fast approaching grazing fields.  The ride was rather dull, compared to the ride to Hogwarts…

A sharp rap on the door interrupted their heated argument over house elves.  Harry and Ron, try as they might, simply couldn't convince Hermione to give up her whole S.P.E.W. campaign.  She was adamant to the fact that she couldn't possibly be able to convince thousands of grown wizards to see a different angle, wizards whom had grown up used to the creatures unquestioningly going about their bidding, which made Hermione even more reluctant to give it up.

_The trio looked up, surprised to see that it was the conductor, or someone who dressed very similar to him.  He was holding a parchment envelope in his hand._

_"Mr Harry Potter?" the man asked tentatively._

_"Yeah?" Harry asked, rising to his feet._

_"Message for you, young man," said the man, handing the parchment to Harry.  He touched his fingers to his hat in salute and left the compartment._

_"Who's it from, Harry?" Ron and Hermione asked together._

_"It's from…Lupin," Harry said in bewilderment._

_"What does it say?" Hermione asked, leaning over to him as he opened the envelope._

_"It says…"  But suddenly, his eyes widened, and he reached out a cautious hand._

_"What is it?" said Ron._

_"It's a…"  He drew his hand out to show his friends the object that had materialized inside the envelope.  Hermione and Ron gasped. _

_It was a tiny silver orb, suspended on a delicate silver chain.  It gave off the impression that it was made of molten silver, because it appeared to be ever-changing, swirling around, even though it remained stationary.  It was a very beautiful thing, but its was a mysterious kind of beauty, a kind of beauty that was not to be understood by mortal beings.   Harry could feel the magic pulsing through his body as he clutched the tiny sphere in his hand._

_"There's a note, Harry," Hermione said, handing him a piece of parchment that had undoubtedly fallen from the envelope in his excitement.  Harry took it from her and read aloud:_

"Hello, Harry.

Lily received this token many years ago, the day you were born.  She meant to give it to you, when you were of age.  I think now is the right time.  It has extraordinary powers, and yet they will be revealed to you in time.  Wear it always, and know that your mother is always there.

Happy birthday, Harry.

Remus Lupin"

Harry looked up at Ron and Hermione, who were staring at him in astonishment.  They both knew what this must mean to him, when the only family heirloom he possessed was the Invisibility Cloak, if one could really consider that an heirloom.  Slowly, hesitantly, Harry lifted the chain and fastened it around his neck, all at once feeling the magic rush over him in an endless wave of ecstasy.  The magic tingled in his fingertips, caused his heart to swell several times its normal size.  It was a feeling of wonderful high, something that he couldn't have possibly accomplished any other way….

The train came to a screeching halt, jolting Harry from his reverie.  Absently, he clutched at the chain around his throat, wondering what magic it could perform.  He had almost entirely forgotten about it until now, the familiar scene jogging his memory.  Slowly, he and his friends rose to their feet, treading slowly to the platform and the torrential rain outside.  

Despair chanted heavily in their hearts as they climbed into a Ministry car that had been provided by Mr Weasley.  Harry, who had been feeling unaccountably awkward around the Weasleys since Ginny's death, found himself even more so in the company of her parents.  It jarred his heart to see the pain-stricken expressions on Mr and Mrs Weasley's faces.

*********

He stood in the cemetery of Ottery St. Catchpole, staring ahead unseeingly through the steady rain.  He heard nothing over the buzzing in his ears, didn't hear the funeral service or the speeches that followed.  A mist that hovered over the scene seemed to not only impair his vision but also block his hearing.  He was vaguely aware of a large black box being lowered into a hole in the ground.  A stone was placed at the head, a stone that read, _Virginia Weasley, 1981-1996.  Dear, departed daughter.  She will be missed forever._  He dimly sensed Ron embracing Alex as both of them wept quietly.  Ron muttered something about avenging his sister's death, of forever destroying Lord Voldemort.  But for now, the Dark wizard only lingered in the world, unable to find the cowardly service of one of his followers, yet never to be killed.                                            

A charm was placed over the ground, and instantly, grass sprang up in place of the freshly over turned earth.  Hermione stepped forward and dropped a deep, blood red rose on the ground there, tears streaming silently down her face, and that was that.   

He stood there for an eternity that might have lasted hours, minutes, or even mere seconds for all he knew.  The only change he was aware of was people gradually departing for home, to return to their families.  

Harry indistinctly heard Hermione walk over to him and touch his shoulder, saying quietly, "Harry, we should go now…I know how you must feel, but please…"

But Harry ignored her, and eventually, she gave up.

When he was sure everyone was gone, Harry knelt down next to the grave.  His eyes filled with tears at last and streamed down his face unchecked as he gazed at the headstone that bore the name of his best friend's sister.  Brushing the grass away at the base of the stone, he pulled out his wand and murmured a few well-chosen words, placing the tip of his wand to the stone.

"_Armenae uth Solaris._"

A shimmering golden light streamed from his wand, emblazoning four words upon the solid grey rock.

I love you, too.  –HP 

Harry straightened up, staring down at his work.  The girl that had been almost like the little sister he never had…he owed her that much.

Over the years, the grass will grow to hide the inscription he had written with such a heavy heart on such a dreary day.  Someday, someone would chance upon it and gaze wonderingly at the few brief words that held so much meaning.  That day, evil would be forever vanquished.

And as Harry slowly turned his back and walked with sagging shoulders back to Ron, the angels rained down silent tears.

The End 

*takes really deep breath*  *expels really deep breath*  WHEEW.  I'm FINISHED.  Well, did you like?  I sure hope so, cuz it's not gonna get much better than this…joking, joking!  Do you think I made that ending a bit too dramatic?  Oh, well, that's me, Miss Melodramatic… oi vey.  I love you guys, you've been so much help and support!!!  Thanks to all the reviewers (yes, even you, Ron Luvr) for making me feel so special, and to my very bestest friends who have tolerated my obsession…ha, and only to get even more!!!   Yes, Silent Torment should be online in a matter of days, and I would've had this up sooner, but I had a family reunion to go to…oh, hi D.K.  *sweatdrop*   You little bastard, you had me in a headlock most of the time!  Yeah, bite me, I'm just _so_ boring now, and I used to be _so_ much fun…ok, ignore me.  Anyway, look for Silent Torment in a few days, this week I've got a theatre class that'll take up most of my day, but oh well, it's well worth it.  I'm actually looking forward to a little bit of a break…NOOOOO!!!  MUST…CONTINUE…WRTING….GAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!!!  Oh dear.  Ahem.  For all you Dragonlance fanatics  (hello!!!), I might be writing a Raistlin romance, so look for it.  It'll be titled Untold Desires or something to that effect.  Based on the time during the Chronicles.  When Fizban's with them and all.  (Isn't that guy hilarious?  "Where's my hat?  What's my name?"  Ha ha.  oO;)  It's NOT SLASH.  *shudders violently*  Crissy saw this one with Raistlin and Dalamar… GAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!    *runs away and pukes*  Okay, I'm back.  It's late, so I better say good-bye.  See you in Silent Torment!  (Muhahahahahahaha!!!)

Ppl, don't forget to rate this fic 1-5, the whole thing, okies?  That way I know if this style is all right or if I need any improvements anywhere.  And I would appreciate it if you did so for The Red Rose, too.  Thank you!!!

Disclaimer:  Yeah, I know, it's a bit late for one of these, but I decided it was easier to put it here at the end anyway.  Most of these characters belong to J.K. Rowling, of course, as do many of the settings.  However, Alex, Crissy, Michelle, Lynn, and Eddie were all sort of created by me.  They're all actually modelled after real people (my friends, actually.  Yeah, who knew I was so cruel to my friends?  Ten bucks to whoever can figure out who Eddie is…*sweatdrop*  No, not really!  *double sweatdrop*).  For those of you who've read Cassandra Claire's fics, you'll notice that I got a lot of my ideas from her, but the Polyjuice thing was mine.  I started writing this a while before I read her fics.  My Draco is very similar to hers, for instance, as was the telepathy thing with Harry and Draco.  Anyway, some things also came from the Dragonlance saga, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and a few other fics I've read.  I think that's all...see you next time!


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